


Knight and Day Difference

by Da_Funked



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Action, M/M, Mercenaries, Superheroes, Violence, ridiculous idiots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2018-04-03 14:06:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 90,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4103653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Da_Funked/pseuds/Da_Funked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Look, it's not my fault you're the hero with the shitty one liners."<br/>"Well it's not my fault you're the villain that has no taste!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Breath of Fresh Heir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Hey! Hope you guys like this, because this fic consists of Dave and John being oblivious and doing jobs they really should have steered clear of. Enjoy!))

TG: youll message me when you get off the plane right   
TG: like the second it happens i expect the fine piece of machinery that is my phone to absolutely blow up with 'i missed you' and 'texas is so much better than washington ever was' messages   
TG: sonnets describing what it was like without me for those extra 4 hours gotta be spilled out in blue all up in this bitch   
EB: yes, dave, you'll get a message.   
EB: ONE message!   
EB: i'll be more focused on actually walking off the plane and meeting you than i will be on trying to type a bunch.   
TG: true   
TG: ill be waiting here and standing with a sign in hand   
EB: sign?   
TG: obviously   
TG: im your ride, ergo im forced to hold the shitty sign that says 'egbert' in line with all the other people holding shitty signs   
TG: its a practical chameleon effect   
EB: so i'm expected to find you through all the people also holding up signs?   
TG: all part of the challenge   
EB: i'll just look for the only ass wearing shades indoors!   
TG: good luck, this is texas there are a trillion of us   
TG: if thats your logic even more people could be me than originally in the sign holding conga line   
TG: sudden legions are joining the strider grouping under the 'sunglasses indoors' rule youve set up   
TG: theyre gonna swarm bros apartment in droves while i laugh from our completely empty new one   
TG: shit though hed enlist my help   
TG: 'what the fuck dave when did we get 10000 bros and sisters?'   
TG: 'no fucking idea bro but weve gotta take care of them now'   
TG: why the fuck would you put all of these people in my care john   
EB: ok, first off we're not inviting anybody into out apartment based off of sunglasses.   
EB: second off, i need to get on my plane!   
TG: fly safe and remember you owe me a sonnet   
EB: maybe a haiku.   
TG: ill take what i can get   
TG: dont die   
EB: you suck.

-

"-another body found just last night. The victim, who's name hasn't been released yet, appeared to be one of the vigilantes that have been cropping up in Houston. The police have no suspects as of yet, but they do advise-"

The reporter droned on in the background of the airport terminal, but Dave Strider had other things on his mind. The front most thing being the scene in front of him; John's plane was supposed to have arrived five minutes ago, and right now two terminals were unloading, causing a flood of people to pour out. His eyes flicked between every face in front of him as he held up his shitty cardboard sign that had 'Egbert' scrawled out in large black letters, still not seeing anybody perk up or respond. While he waited, he closed his eyes for a moment, and could hear some teenage girl tisk her tongue from next to where one of the flatscreens was hung.

"That's fucked up." Cracking an eye open, Dave turned his head just barely to catch a glimpse of the speaker. The one who spoke was blonde, pink coloring parts of her hair while she orated to a taller girl next to her, dark in complexion and clothing, "Who would kill a hero?"

"A bad guy?" Her friend suggested, causing the shorter of the two to roll her eyes. 

"Not funny. I'm being serious! This is the third dude to be found dead in like, four months."

"Well one of them was said to have a really big criminal background," The taller one voiced, crossing her arms and tilting her mohawked head to the left a bit. "Maybe it's just coincidence."

"I'm not feelin' that."

"Then what do you think it is? A justice streak?"

Shaking his head the smallest bit, Dave's eyes went back to the terminal in front of him as the girls chattered on, trying to pluck out anyone walking in his general direction. He and John Skyped every once in a while, but he'd seen the dope a total of two times in all their years of friendship. Egbert never seemed to turn on his damn camera, and always complained that his hair looked 'weird and fluffed up Dave!! ill turn it on later, stop making that face'.

And even when he had seen him, the quality had been shit and John had half of his face pressed into a pillow at all times.

So the hopes of actually spotting him in the sea of travelers was closer to zero than the blond had been hoping.

"Pretty crazy stuff, huh?"

Brow furrowing a touch, Dave glanced sideways and caught sight of a stranger next to him, dark hair combed out and styled nicely with a bag by his side. With thin eyes and a nose pressed more flat than forward, Dave had a moment of wondering what ethnicity the guy was before he turned to look at the blond again, catching his eye. He was wearing wire framed glasses that had rectangular lenses, with eyes that were a deep set blue. He couldn't have been much older than Dave himself, if he was older at all.

"The murders," The guy clarified, nodding back at the TV a little as his mouth started to tick into a smile. He must have been listening in on the news report as well.

It was then Dave realized he was totally staring at this man, causing him to force his eye back to the masses. "Yeah, but you get used to it when you live here long enough."

"You live here? So not a traveler then."

"Nah. I'm waiting for a friend who's flying in," He said, nodding a little. A subconscious flick of the sign in his hand brought blue eyes to read the word hastily scrawled there, and this time the man did smile.

"Egbert?"

"Yeah it's the shittiest name in all existence, but the guy it belongs to is a vaguely decent."

"Decent enough for a personal pick up from the airport."

"Eh, it's what friends do."

"So a guy with a shitty name and who is only slightly decent is your friend?"

"After 10 years, I think it's mandatory that I call him that."

"Mandatory. Sounds like a good friendship."

"The best of 'em."

"I don't know how much I'd believe that. Why's he flying down here?"

"To live with me."

"The very best of his friends."

"Exactly. We've been planning on it since high school."

"And what, now you're done with high school and this is your big leap?"

"No, now we're done with college and this is us trying to start up a life that doesn't consist of applying to sixty different jobs outside of our fields and crying over debt. Usual Grad stuff."

"So you two are starting a life together?" The silence caused Dave to look over, and the guy actually looked amused.

This asshole reminded him enough of John in the bombardment of stupid questions area that he nearly smiled just thinking about it.

But, instead of answering, Dave's eyes went back to looking for John, and seeing that it was becoming much more empty by the second.

Luckily his airport partner let up and left Dave be for the moment being, but he did crouched down and began to dig through his bag with seeming intent. Pulling out what looked like a notebook, he held an open palm over to Dave. "Think you have a marker I can borrow? It'll probably be easier to find my own ride with a sign to grab their attention."

"Yeah man, here." A moment of fishing through his pockets, and a black Sharpie traded hands from his own to the traveler.

"Thanks." Pulling the cap off with his teeth (Dave had a total of 10 seconds to think about how gross it was that a stranger was licking all over his Sharpie), the ravenette wrote in giant loopy letters across the back of this notebook, before recapping Dave's marker and sliding it into his own pocket. Flipping the sign around, he raised his eyebrows innocently, "Is this legible? I usually have terrible handwriting."

The cursive letters clearly spelling out 'Strider' took a mere moment to sink in, before John started laughing, getting hit in the side with Dave's own cardboard sign.

"God I was wondering how one stranger could be such a fucking prick in such a familiar way."

"But Dave! We're starting our life together, you can't begin it with hitting me- Ow!"

Laughter came out of John in a practical flow as he ducked away from Dave momentarily, then slammed back into him, hitting them both to the floor with an overstretched grin.

People had to dodge around them as they walked, but the Strider's mouth finally ticked into a smile as John laid sprawled on the terminal floor next to him.

"Sup," He greeted, letting an open palm fall against John's chest and using him as leverage to get pushed back up. John let out a groan at the air being pressed out of his lungs, and with his glasses knocked askew and his finally groomed hair now messed up, Dave could recognize him in an instant.

"Welcome to Texas, Egbert."

"You mean welcome home."

"I'm going to send you back to the frost bitten hell hole that is Washington." 

"Ouch, bad start to our life!"

"I want a divorce. You can keep the kids, as long as I get alimony and the house."

John ran a hand through his hair, messing up even more than the floor had, before lifting up his hand and wiggling his fingers. Taking the immediate hint, Dave linked hands to wrists and pulled him to stand. "You'd give up our metaphorical children that easily?"

Shrugging half heartedly, Dave released John's hand in lieu of picking up his bag for him, and his notebook, "I'm a shitty parent and a worse husband. You'll learn that."

"I can't wait," the ravenette assured.


	2. Space Given

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Hope you guys enjoy!))

“Man, this room looks so different in person than it did over Skype.”

Nodding a little as he dragged John’s bag in, Dave couldn’t help but agree. John had probably been expecting something a bit less of a drop; the windows in the place were massive, taking up nearly an entire wall and opening up completely, all the way from the 14th story.

This was the room that John chose, and Dave couldn’t understand how he’d be alright with having those massive panes of glass revealing a total plummet to the sidewalk. But like fuck he was gonna complain. The place only had two bedrooms and he was good with his room. It was windowless, which helped considering he had eyes more sensitive than a pampered child and a fear of heights like you wouldn’t believe. As long as he had solid ground under him, even a rooftop tarmac, he was fine. The second he got next to a thin sheet of glass separating him from a fall and certain death though, he had to gracefully bow out with a shudder.

“Told you they were bigger in person than you thought,” The blond started, knocking on the fishbowl view framing one the walls as he walked past it, a careful distance between him and the source of natural lighting. “You still good with it?”

“More than,” John promised, walking to the window with a smile and pressing right against it, looking over the view of downtown Houston with his nose against the glass. Dave blanched overdramatically at the action before tangling a hand in the back of his friend's shirt, pulling him away from the glass while John continued on, “This is an amazing view! Not to mention we got a great apartment. All those years of saving really paid off, huh?”

“In the end, definitely. Doesn’t change the fact that 17 year old me will never forget having to bypass getting to visit you and Harley down in her freaky little island because the plane tickets cost so much.”

“Advantages of having my dad sending me to visit my cousin for a summer; I didn’t have to pay for that! I can’t believe you’re still bitter about that!”

“Dude. I haven’t met neither Jade nor Rose yet and you’ve met them both.”

“Not my fault Rose passes through Washington when she goes to Canada for the summer. And Jade’s my cousin and lived with me for years, it’s fair that I’ve met her.” Bouncing his eyebrows in a ‘too bad for you’ look, John continued to look out the window, giving a bit of a whistful sigh. “Dude. We’re here.”

“Yeah.” Glancing around the room, Dave’s mouth actually began to tick up in a smile. They’d been talking about this for, god, seven years now? Scrimping and saving every penny on Dave’s part for the first few years before he got a real job, and still scrimping and saving on John’s since he had to quit his old one before he moved.

The talk had first come up when they were fifteen. Dave had been bitching about Bro again, while John had said that he wished he could be more independent. Typical teenager talk, but they ended up taking a step further. A pact, that they’d move in together after high school and be able to live however they wanted. No mandatory sword fights and weird house rules, no extra baking goods and a strict bedtime, they’d be able to do as they pleased.

They’d tried to get Rose and Jade in on it, but both of them dismissed the idea. Jade was content with staying on her island, which was located about 50 miles from the country of Japan where she was considered a resident. It was private, though, and living with their Grandfather, she was happy with traveling the world when she was finished with her schooling. That, and she didn’t want to live with two boys because ‘guys you both have the worst cleaning habits, ive seen your rooms on skype!! D: ’.

At least Rose was more gentle with her letdown. She insisted that she was going to college in New York, so unless they planned on finding an apartment in Manhattan, she had to be left out of the adventure.

But, the whole plan of skipping college and shacking up changed after John’s summer in Asia. Living with Jade and his Grandpa for four months had been, well, completely awesome. He got to see Jade’s lab, where she did all of her studies, and her terrarium. He also got to see his Grandpa’s compilation of rifles, and go around the island whenever he felt.

A small accident, well explosion, had gotten both of them in trouble, however. They’d been messing around in Jade’s lab, her doing actual work while John flung around in a rolling chair and played twenty questions, and something had gone wrong. Both of their memory was fuzzy on it, but it’d destroyed the room around them, knocked them out with a few scratches and bruises, and caused Jade’s dog to go insane by barking for so long. It had gotten them both grounded for a week, and they had to clean up the mess, but both of them still high fived while sweeping because _the place looked so cool when it was destroyed, and did you see the blue and green smoke it had made before we blacked out?_

Dave and Rose had both been invited, but Dave had to save every penny due to living with Bro and hardly getting an income of his own and Rose was with her mother in Canada, visiting her sister.

It had been fun, hanging out with his cousin.

It had been sad, going home and saying goodbye to the both of them, because he’d gotten close with both Jade and his Grandpa.

And it had been a gut wrenching surprise when Jade showed up at the Egbert household 3 weeks after he’d gotten home, bag in hand, head hung and woman next to her, introducing herself as Jade’s custody agent and keeper of the English estate until Jade came of age.

John’s Dad had taken the news hard, that his father had passed away. When John had finally plucked up the courage to ask what’d happened, a few days after the funeral, his father just responded, “He died with his work boots on.” Took another 2 years to find out from Jade that he’d fallen while climbing, and been found by her after he hadn’t come home. Loose rocks and a lack of good gear had lead to a cracked skull and his own dog, Halley, whining by his side.

So, Jade moved in. Well, her, Beq and Halley. She wanted to go back to her island once she was old enough to claim it again, but that wasn’t until she was 21, so she resolved to study in Seattle and live at home while she went to college. More of John’s time went to helping out around the house and less to working, so by the time he was walking down the aisle at graduation, he didn’t have the entire amount to move in with Dave just yet.

So Dave pushed it back. “After college,” They both promised. After college, they’d move in together and find jobs in Houston.

“Dave?”

Snapped out of his reverie, Dave turned around to see John standing next to the window, raising an interested eyebrow at how his friend had zoned out, “You alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just got lost in thought,” Was the assurance he got, Dave waving a hand before pointing at the bag he'd set down on the floor for his roommate, “I’ve already unpacked my room, so I’m gonna go grab some food for us, aight? You get to stay home and unpack next to your freaky invisible wall. Good luck with the amount of birds that're gonna kamikaze against that thing, by the way.”

“Can we get Chinese?” John asked as he peaked back at the window, admiring the skyline while the blond responded.

“Whatever you want, man. You were just stuck on a plane full of assholes who were also willing to enter the hellhole that is Texas willingly, you deserve it.”

Rolling his eyes as Dave fished his keys out of his pocket and gave a two fingered salute, John’s phone began to ring. Pulling it out, a quick glance at the screen had him grinning, pressing 'answer’. “Hey Jade!”

“Hey John! Did you get to Texas okay? How is it? Did Dave pick you up at the airport or did he forget?”

Hearing his cousins voice nearly blast in his ear, John turned it on speaker, setting it on the uncovered bed and speaking to the room as he began to unpack, “I did, it’s way too hot, and yeah, he picked me up. Had a sign and everything.” From the living room, he could hear Dave call out a goodbye before the front door shut, leaving the apartment all to himself.

“That’s adorable, oh my god, he has the handwriting of a baby and was willing to hold that up,” She orated happily, causing John to chuckle a little bit. However, her tone shifted after just a second, “I did call for a reason, though.”

“Oh?” He asked distractedly, digging out his clothing and flopping them onto the floor next to the closet.

She was quiet momentarily before asking, "Is Dave around?"

"He just left to grab dinner," John promised, "What's up?" 

“There’s a mercenary running rampant in Houston.”

Pausing at hearing this, John cleared his throat, trying to non-chalantly shrug even though Jade couldn’t see it, “And?”

“And, you attract trouble! I want you to be safe, alright? For a little while, none of your masked vigilante crap. I don’t want to find out you bit the dust by trying to help some little old lady across the street or something!”

“Jade, come on, do you really have that little faith in me? Also, if I remember correctly, we both do the masked vigilante crap, not just me.” When there wasn’t a reply for a moment, he felt like he’d made a point, before his cousin scoffed.

“I’m not the one who refuses to hurt anyone to protect myself. If I needed to, I could easily defend myself and the people I’m with. You just use avoidance techniques and aim not to kill them. You’d let your neck get snapped by your enemy because you tripped and refused to throw a punch.”

“Jade, I really don’t think you need to be this worried. It’s not like I’m about to run out into the middle of the street and tackle a stranger and reveal myself. Plus, nobody is gonna be paying to take me out of commission anyways! I just got here and haven’t done a single thing wrong. For all anyone knows, I’m just a typical citizen.”

“John. You’re the type to divebomb out of a window and fly in the middle of the day, and you have such terrible impulse control, you’re gonna do it someday. It won’t take long for word to get out that there’s a wind slinging hero out on the loose in Houston.”

Glancing over at his bay windows, John gave a sigh, shaking his head, “How did you even hear about the merc anyways?”

“I have my sources,” She said with faux mystery, causing John to get a flat expression.

“Rose?”

When she blew a raspberry at him, John knew he’d hit the ticket. “Apparently there have been a few murders there in the past months. Not only are some of them the wannabe heroes like us, some of them are the wannabe baddies. Digging into it a little, Rose said there’s some guy in red ripping anyone up for a few bucks.”

“What, so some wishful thinking Deadpool lookalike?”

“I don’t know! The only reason she knows anything about it is because she got her hands on a few of the police reports, and they talked about video footage capturing this guy following through with every attack.”

“How did she-”

“I’m not gonna question it,” Jade started, “But I called to tell you to be careful. You’ve got the makings of an enemy out there, who’s got no problem killing people, so maybe you should hold off on the crimefighting.”

“You didn’t worry when we were in Seattle.”

“Yeah, because we were working as a team, and it was a way smaller city. Houston is three times bigger, and you’re roomed with Dave.”

“Why don’t we just tell Dave?” Looking the closet up and down to judge the amount of space he had, the ravenette noticed Dave had left unopened packs of hangers in the bottom of the closet, which he leaned down to grab.

“Well he would A: not believe you or B: freak out when you told him. Also, the less people who know, the better. What if someone interrogated him? He could either be clueless and be let go or he could be in the know and get himself killed.”

“You really love the stereotypical superhero tropes, you know that?” He grunted out, flopping against the floor. Ripping the hanger packaging open with his teeth, he spat out the bit of residual plastic left in his mouth, “Rose knows, why can’t he?”

“Because she figured it out and lives in a completely different state, unlike how you live in the same apartment as Dave? I didn’t even like it when she found out! It could put them in danger if either of us ever get caught, and Dave lives with you, which is already dangerous as it is!”

“Ugh.” Letting his head hang just a touch, John hunched his shoulders, “I still wish I could say something. We’re superheroes Jade, come on, that’s so cool, we have to tell _someone_.”

“We are _not_ superheroes,” She corrected, and John could already imagine the brunette shaking her head, “This isn’t a comic book.”

“Jade, comic books came about because there have always been heroes and villains fighting each other in any big city since the turn of the century. Comic books just jazzed up real stories a bit and made a lot of the old heroes they were documenting really overpowered.”

“Which we’re not.”

“But you’re the one that powered us in the first place.”

“It still doesn’t make sense!” The way she barked it out made John start laughing, hanging his head back, “It’s been five years since that stupid lab accident and I’ve got nooooooo idea what happened to make us different. All research on it just leads to a big red X over any notes and studies.”

“Then stop trying to figure it out!” He challenged, “Just accept it. I can control air and you can resize things. It’s actually really cool!”

“It’s cool, yeah, and we did it by accident! I have to figure out what happened to _give_ us powers, and how.”

“You’ve been trying to figure it out ever since we found out we had them. For all you know, that’s not how we got our powers in the first place.”

“What other event could we both have been effected by simultaneously?” She challenged, causing John to fall silent, “That’s what I thought. Look, unpack, hang out with Dave, give him a hug from me, and be. Careful. I’m serious. Take time to learn the city before you even think of trying to do anything. For all you know, Houston is fine without you.”

“Thanks,” He said sarcastically as he stuffed a hanger into another shirt, earning a bit of a chuckle from Jade. “I’ll tell Dave you said hi.”

“Good. Love you both, and I’ll call you tomorrow! Make sure you guys talk to Rose too, I’m sure she wants to hear all about the new place.”

By the time John hung up, he’d distractedly already fitted half of his clothing with hangers, which was a good start. But, curiosity took hold and caused him to pull up Google, getting himself directed to several different sources of news in Houston. The top story was about another killing, the one he’d been fake-chatting with Dave over, and hadn’t paid attention to. The guy had gotten his ribcage practically crushed. How was that even possible?

The death before that was a snapped neck.

The one before that was near disembowelment.

Feeling his stomach twist uncomfortably, John put down his phone and closed his eyes for a moment. Whoever this guy was, the same assumed killer on all accounts, needed to be stopped. But if Rose thought it was a mercenary, well.

That sounded like a job John could put an end to.

“Yo, food.”

Snapping his eyes open as a large bag of Chinese was dumped on his lap, John met Dave’s gaze, which was currently tilted towards the meager amount of work he’d gotten done.

“I’ve been gone for half an hour and you’ve managed to hang up 12 shirts,” Dave said, letting out a whistle, “Watch out there, John, if you work any harder we may just get the place unpacked in the next year.”

“Hardy har har,” John snarked, flipping him off crookedly while giving a smile.

He’d begin looking around the city tomorrow night for the guy, after asking Rose to get more information if she could manage. He was assuming her sister was getting into police servers she really shouldn’t be, but if it helped John catch this guy, it’d be worth it.

But for tonight, he was focused on talking with his best friend, a heavy feeling settling in his gut knowing that sicko was somewhere out in Houston.


	3. Lights Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Hope you guys like it!))

He was cornered.

God, he’d wanted this so badly, and he hadn’t even thought about the consequences of his actions. At least not fully, not truly, and now he was suffering through them.

Moving in with John had been the dream. His Bro was cool, sure, and someone that Dave looked up to. But it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that he wasn’t a suitable parental figure. A steady dinner of junk food only to have the calories burned off by hours of harsh exercise wasn’t healthy. Being casually raised around sex toys and paraphernalia wasn’t healthy. Having enough scars to cover your shoulders and arms in a veil of bumped up, paler than usual skin _wasn't healthy_.

But he stayed. He had to. He didn’t have any other choice.

And at this point, he’d gotten used to it.

Every strife still led to bloodshed and exhaustion, but at least he’d gotten used to getting stitches now.

Life without access to fresh fruits and vegetables because the fridge was filled up with broken sharpened blades had become common place. Syrup based juice had become the only fruit he got in his life, so he’d take it.

Very little interaction with others was normal, too. Having to wear shades from shitty eye sensitivity and having them pushed on you by your brother would lead to that. At least his friends were accepting of it, only teasing once in a while but John making a nice pair of shades an actual gift to give him.

He got used to not celebrating birthdays.

He also got used to no physical contact that wasn’t supposed to be blocked or strafed away from.

Getting more than four hours of sleep seemed like such a waste, so it rarely happened until he crashed after two weeks and slept for ten hours, only to repeat the process.

But the most difficult thing he’d had to do, even through all of this, was find a job that suited him. Finding something that Dave could do that didn’t drive him up the wall was hard. Scraping through the mess of metaphors and irony that was his usual speech pattern was hard for most and more of an annoyance, meaning he couldn’t do retail or really anything doing with customer service.

Manual labor worked for a while, but most of it was outside and made his eyes start to hurt after too long, causing him to mess up or take a break. Which meant him getting fired in the first week.

He was thankful when John called him and told him that they wouldn’t be able to move in together just yet, after they’d both graduated high school. Because the meager amount Dave had managed to get together was definitely not enough to live off of. It wasn’t enough to even put a down payment on an apartment with, and that night he’d spent the entire time of getting his shoulder stitched up (“If you blocked, little bro, this wouldn’t happen”) thinking of what he could possibly do.

How the fuck could he fix this?

College wasn’t hard to handle. Classes, studying, going home, sleeping. He didn’t have to talk to strangers, he didn’t have to do any strain that wasn’t mental, at least not while on campus, besides messaging his friends. Though, Dave did stay with his brother during his time there, so as not to cost extra. He’d gotten enough scholarships to cover the cost of college, but the dorms and books only bit further into a savings that he didn’t have.

It was his third year of college that desperation began to kick in. Every day, his thumb pressed against the shattered screen of his phone again, and again, and again, checking to see his financial updates. _D_ _id my last paycheck go through? Did more come off of it again?_ His employer was a shady guy who just needed crates hauled at night in a warehouse uptown, while money seemed to be dripping out of an invisible crack in his account, constantly draining it more and more.

$724.59

That’s all Dave Strider had accumulated in 6 years of trying, and god, did it suck.

He was cornered.

When the idea was joked about by one of his professors as a better substitute for making his jobs wages in a night, he shouldn’t have ever thought twice.

He shouldn’t have ever even decided to look into the world of mercenary work.

He shouldn’t have found people that would prove reliable customers due to rumor, and he shouldn’t have put the price of a human life so cheap.

But for a thousand dollars a pop, he’d do what he needed.

He needed. To. Get out.

Growing up in a home that was full of training and void of actual nurture was practically perfect for him. The idea of killing someone for a shot at freedom was oddly alright in his mind. It was just a person, it’s not like he knew them. He didn’t know their life, their jobs, their family, their secrets, he didn’t know anything. All he knew was he had his ways, and they had a reason for being killed.

Offing people should have been hard, but _god he did his job well._

The first one had to have been the worst. His hands were shaking, the sight of a dead body didn’t register for a good thirty seconds, and when it had he’d thrown up the second he got back home.

Bro noticed new scars from fights that weren’t with him, but to Dave’s relief and slight annoyance, never commented.

Senior year, and he was going strong. Nine thousand dollars in the bank, a reputation that was practically a shining recommendation to anyone who could open a wallet for him, and Dave was your man. Just a stranger in red who’d do your bidding for a small fee. No name, no face, no problem.

How he’d gotten roped into a solid job, he still didn’t know. Two jobs from the same person, but five thousand for each. He’d been assured that any future jobs would pay more, and before he knew it, he was signing his soul away to the practical devil with the ink being his own blood.

Jack Noir was a solid boss, but assumed to be a terrible human being.

And Dave was his left hand man, never showing up without his face covered and rarely speaking, altering his voice even then. Getting passed off to all of Jack's underlings to finish up their jobs. Usually a man by the name of Spade Slick, who seemed to have Houston under his thumb.

When he’d graduated, Dave tried to quit. The next time that he received a call from Jack, he explained that he was over. Done. Out of the business.

When he got dragged out of his home at 2 AM, he made a quick realization while being briefed in on his next target unwillingly;

Once you’re in?

You don’t get out. No matter how badly you want to.

And then John moved in and made Dave want to quit even more. He wanted to spend time with his friend, retire from working, and live life. He didn’t want to focus on a job that only happened about once a month but drained his attitude and stature for the day. The money wasn’t worth it anymore, but it was a tolerable job since he had to do it. By had to, he meant he was under Noir’s thumb and signed under a contract that he’d only agreed to on a five thousand dollar high and a desperation to leave where he was.

At least John didn’t know about any of it. He’d lived with him for a week now and didn’t suspect a thing, but the last thing he’d wanna do is tip the dork off to his job.

Plus, the nerd didn’t seem all that focused on the whole comic shtick as it was. He was always moving around and touring Houston, keen on checking out every little bit he could while dragging the native resident in tow and asking him questions about the place.

Dave considered himself lucky that John had gone to bed hours ago when he’d gotten a text as he was getting ready for bed, giving a name and location with little else.

So much for sleeping.

Nine months of being an employee for The Spade, and four of Dave’s jobs had gone public.

About to be five.

-

“We’re on the same side,” The man in front of him stated, coughing up a few flecks of red and holding his side. His outfit looked to be spandex, a ridiculous getup with some shitty armor of bright green and everything. People had been doing the hero versus villain game for a damn long time now, but the outfits were still ridiculous no matter what.

Dave’s own was a mask that covered his face and material he could see through over the eyes. A jacket with the hood always up, black leather gloves, and deep red pants that hid blood stains like a fucking charm. He looked damn good, and if he was gonna do this job, at least he’d do it well.

“Why are you doing this?” His target tried to ask, but the question fell on deaf ears.

**Target: Drift Claw**  
**Real Name: Adam Tucker**  
**Wife: Diana Degrass-Tucker**  
**Assets: Speed and Agility, Literal Fuckin Claws, slow Regenerative Healing**  
**Alliance: Villain**  
**Number of Shits Given That This Guy is Aiming To Get Him Monologuing: Fuckin Zero**

The sword spun carefully between leather clad figures as Dave stepped forward, planning on ending this sooner rather than later when he heard feet land on the ground behind him. Spinning on heel and lifting the blade in defense, he was met with the sight of a fucking vision in blue, walking towards him. How he’d gotten this close without tipping Dave off was impressive, but when he spoke, he was obviously messing with his voice to change it.

Smart, but annoying.

“Let him go.”

“… What?” It was the first word Dave had spoken that night outside of his own home, his own voice distorted but by his mask. Couldn’t have him sounding familiar if someone heard him talk, right?

“I said, let. Him. Go.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Dave asked incredulously. The guys outfit was actually pretty damn nice, looking to be some type of heavy duty material, probably flame retardant, and varying in shades. Holy shit, this guy had someone tailor his outfit for him, that was ridiculous. It looked professional enough, but judging by this act, the guy wasn’t all that experienced considering he was trying to help a renowned murderer. Maybe this was one of his accomplices? “Sorry Little Boy Blue, don’t you have some sheep to be chasing after instead of bothering me in he middle of my job?”

“Look, uh-” He seemed to look Dave up and down once before clearing his throat, “Red. I’ve heard about you, and I’m giving you a chance to give this up before I make you.”

“Giving _me_ a chance? This guy just killed about seven people in a robbery like, a day ago. If you really want to be focusing on people giving up their professions, it should be hi-” Letting his sword fling to point at the man he’d spent the last ten minutes incapacitating, Dave fell silent.

The alley ground next to him was empty.

“Fuuuuuuuck,” he groaned out, his voice distorter going a bit flat as he sheathed his sword across his back. Turning back to Blue, his eyes narrowed behind his mask, “Regenerative powers, what a fucking peach. And right after I’d just spun his insides like a fork in pasta, great.”

“Wait, he’s killed people?” The person in front of him questioned, actually getting a confused tilt of the head, “I- I thought you only killed heroes.”

“I kill who I’m asked to kill,” Dave corrected in a monotone voice, “And you should be thankful I’m not tacking you on the list, because you just ruined my hit.”

“Hey-!” Blue began to argue, before Dave waved his hand, snapping his fingers once.

“Hey there, Virgin Mary, you wanna stop someone who’s bad? That guy has killed at least fourty people that I knew of in the past three months. To reach out to your little vigilante heart, I could mention that a lot of those were younger than the age of eighteen. Help me catch him, and you’d be doing all of Houston a bigger favor than if you try to attack me.”

“…. You’re being serious?” The hero questioned, causing the mercenary to pinch at the bridge of his nose over the material of his mask.

“Well you could attack me and have everyone you know hear about your death on the news, or you can help me.”

“Or I could leave,” Was the challenge he was met with.

“Yeah, which would be doing me a fucking favor.” Glancing around, he noticed a few drops of blood on the ground in one direction, spotting his path to follow, “Or, you can stop a murderer from running rampant. Whichever one makes you sleep better at night; cowarding away, or actually stopping a really fucked up individual.”

“You’ve killed four people! You’re a really fucked up individual!”

“I’ve killed way more than four people,” He deadpanned, watching the blue boys shoulders pinch, “And every single one had a reason. I don’t ask it, but I sometimes know it. Like this fucker, who you just let get away because you had to try to pull a movie moment and save the day. And he’s killed more than I have, just over his years of dipping shit without anyone stopping him. He’s been in New York, Boston, _and_ L.A. All I know about are the deaths that happened here that my employer cared to mention.”

“I didn’t know he was a villain,” Blue defended, causing the red one to roll his eyes, “And I don’t trust you as it is. I’ve been trying to find and stop you since I saw the police reports about you offing different heroes.”

“Well you found me. Happy? You’re just gonna let him go back out into the world then because you want my ass on a platter?” Sucking in air through his teeth, Dave shook his head, “Pretty fucked up for a goodie two shoes.”

Feeling the glare that the hero was giving him, Dave just crossed his arms, waiting to see what the hero in front of him would do.

“… He went up on the roof.” Pointing at the current building they were standing next to. Blue began to drift upwards while Dave turned his head to look towards their goal. There was a ladder heading up to the top when Dave followed the blood drips, which was a blessing in and of itself for the merc, who began climbing.

He was only on the fifth floor rungs when he heard the new vigilante reach the top with feet meeting the sides loudly. Dave would be lying if he didn’t admit to being surprised at the flying factor. Not as common of a power as one would think.

Dave was on the sixth four rungs when he heard fighting break out.

By the time he reached the tenth floor roof access, he was watching a more than interesting battle between a boy who was lighter on his feet than air and an overly muscled man with a partially shredded stomach and claws aiming to hit him. But even with trained skills of agility, the poor fucker couldn’t land a single hit. Either he’d trip from a gust of air smashing against his foot so strongly it sent him off balance, or the blue fighter would just shoot back and knocking out quick punches, enough to incapacitate but not truly injure.

It was interesting to watch, but interesting didn’t pay bills.

-

The fighting was fast paced, with John only landing a punch every few seconds and having to duck away near constantly as they were returned. He’d done this before, this was familiar, and he could get this guy on the ground and tied up in under five minutes.

But, that’s not what was set out to happen.

John was more than startled when the man who’d been charging at him seconds prior let out a yell, a long blade pulling through his chest from behind. Stumbling back, the hero watched the man go wide eyed, his knees beginning to shake before Red turned his blade casually. On the rooftop, a wet sound of ripping tissue and choking gasp of the man in front of him spilled out before he slipped forward, off the blade and to the tarmac under their feet.

In his three years of crime fighting in Seattle, John hadn’t witnessed someone get their heart shredded in their chest. Actually, he’d never witnessed someone get killed, period. He and Jade were always careful to capture them and call the police, just let them live but rot in jail.

He’d never seen light leave someone’s eyes under the darkness of the sky at two in the morning.

“Oh my g-” Feeling bile rise in his stomach, John covered his mouth with the back of his hand, looking down at the person in front of him. He wasn’t moving, and god so much red was pooling out from under him that. Turning to look at Red, John’s eyes narrowed behind his mask, his expression twisting as he shuddered, “You just-”

“Did my job?” The man completed for him, distorted voice sounding bored as he leaned down, using his gloved fingertips to clench some material on the victim’s shirt while also using the cloth to clean the blade of his sword of blood.

“Murdered him.”

“Oh boo fucking hoo,” Red scoffed, shrugging. “Look, I don’t look into the details of I do, and I’m not gonna call it murder. That makes it sound like it was done with bad intentions; killed is a much cleaner and way more honest way to say it.”

And it was then that something just… snapped.

John was not a violent person by any means.

John actually hated confrontation at all! He did this work because he wanted to help people, not hurt them.

But before he could really register what he was doing, he was shooting forward, fist connecting with the jaw of the only other living person on the rooftop with a thud.

Surprisingly, the merc turned his head to roll with the punch before tilting his body to balance on one foot, kicking his lifted leg out and letting his foot meet John’s stomach as hard as he could. Getting jarred back and getting the air knocked out of him, John preemptively sucked in more oxygen immediately, gasping out in pain. “That’s strike one,” Red said in a serious tone, holding up one finger as his foot re-met the ground calmly. “I don’t kill without a reason, and a valid reason is some wannabe hero hopping on my dick in the middle of the night and pissing me off.”

“You murder people for a living. I don’t need to hear what you consider a valid reason for anything,” John spat out, finding that the more he looked at him the more he found this guy absolutely vile. “You don’t have the right to change the wording to hide what you do! It’s fucked up!”

“Oh my god, all of you idiots who are new to this are the same,” Red scoffed, sheathing his sword. Squaring his stance, he pointed at the body in front of them, seeming to stare dead on at John, “You think this shit is black and white?”

“Well-”

“That was rhetorical, genius. This guy had a wife, family. Maybe had kids, if I had longer to dig up info on him. He probably donated to cancer research every once in a while in Walmart or something, and he’s most likely done good shit in his life. His wife must'a thought he was a total sweetie, his mother loved him, all that jazz. Did he deserve what he got?”

Looking down at the villain, John swallowed the lump forming in his throat. When he didn’t answer, Red continued, “He also crashed a school bus and murdered fifteen kids, along with several random victims during different robberies and fights that he plucked off because they were convenient and disposable leverage against the police force. So, he had to deserve it, right?” Letting his hand drop away from pointing, Red shook his head, “The answer is; It doesn’t fucking matter.”

That threw John for a loop, causing his brow to furrow, “What?”

“That’s right, it doesn’t matter. There’s always gonna be someone out there who thinks I shoulda spared him, and there’s always gonna be someone out there who thinks I did the right thing. All you heroes and villains do the same fucking thing; you play Judge and see who comes out on top. You judge who you think is evil and who you think is good, while not knowing anything besides what you’ve heard about them or seen them do. For all you know this guy was a saint outside of all the kid murdering. For all you know one of your masked buddys is a total asshole outside of helping a few people in distress each night.” Beginning to walk over to the ladder he’d came up, Red glanced back at him, “This job isn’t black and white, it’s a thousand different variants and it’s gonna fuck you up the more you realize that. You seem new to the whole ‘seeing dead people’ thing, so I’m assuming you’re the type to hand these guys off to the police and not finish what you started. So, a little piece of advice from yours truly; Get out of this while you can if you can’t handle watching a bad guy croak.”

John watched leather clad hands grip the sides of the ladder, seeing the red clad figure sliding down the ladder much quicker than he’d climbed.

Part of him felt the need to call Jade or Rose, a lot of him felt the need to vomit, and all of him felt the need to chase after this Red guy and fight everything he said. To argue against every point he just made and drive his fist against his face again.

He didn’t know why he’d let him go, but John vowed that the next time he saw him, the Man in Red would regret ever turning his back.

-

_“- late night murder last night on the rooftop of the Sheriton Apartments. We’ll turn to Duke Regarn who’s at the scene with the full story. Duke?”_

_“Hi, Sara. Police Chief Sanders has just revealed the identity of the victim, 37 year old Adam Tucker, who earlier this evening was-”_

“The news?”

Tipping bloodshot eyes up to meet the sight of an unshaven Dave in fuzzy Angry Bird pyjama pants and wifebeater eating cereal, John took a deep sigh, nodding and sinking further against the couch. “Yup.”

“You know it’s total bullshit, right?”

“Yup.”

“As long as you’re in the know.” Taking a bit of Fruit Loops, he looked over at his roommate, arching an eyebrow as he sat down on the couch next to him, “You look fucking awful.”

“Gee, thanks Dave, I’m practically swooning.” Batting his eyelashes sarcastically, John began to yawn and stretch, his back popping repeatedly. “It was a bad night of sleep, tossed and turned.”

Not commenting on John’s sarcasm, Dave just took another bite of cereal and looked at the screen. “This is why it’s proven I have a better bed. Look at this well rested face. I’m the epitome of put together with this well constructed outfit.” Bouncing his eyebrows, a picture of the most recent victim popped up on screen, making John cringe while Dave pointed out, “Another dude bit it, huh?”

The longer he looked at the picture, the more John mood begins to drop all over again, falling back against the cushions as he nodded, “Yeah, apparently. Stabbed through the chest.”

“Damn.” Giving a little whistle, Dave sat back and crossed his leg over his opposite knee, “Wonder what he did to deserve that.”

Hearing Dave say that made John give a little huff of amusement, but it wasn’t genuine. Instead it just caused him to close his eyes, seeing those dying eyes in the front of his mind as he began to feel drowsy.

“Who knows, man.”

Shifting against the couch, he heard a little voice in the back of his mind answer for him.

_I do._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Nothing says 'best bro' like nearly making your friend have an existential crisis, right? Also Jade's probs gonna go off like a rocket when he tells her about this. Whoops. Hope you guys liked the chapter, thanks for reading!))


	4. Out of Time

Unpacking in all took a week. For the first few days, John seemed a little off kilter, and Dave had absolutely no idea why. All he knew was that his friend went from wanting to tug him all around Houston and learn all about it to staying at home, bored out of his skull and keeping his eyes glued to the TV. For some reason, he seemed to get tight lipped around the most recent 'murder' whenever it came on, flicking the channel away with an idle thumb and watching Iron Chef  America or another episode of Hoarders.  
  
There had to be something bumming him out this hard, and Dave just needed to figure it out when he could.  
  
The problem with that was, however, that he couldn't figure it out at all.  
  
John was too happy of a person to just go silent for a week without a reason. Nothing had happened that Dave could think would make John upset either, which somehow made this worse. Rent was covered for the first two months already, and besides that, there wouldn't be a problem paying for anything if Dave had a say in it. Besides that, his friend had been looking all around town at all times with Dave trailing right next to him, and not once did they have a bad experience. In fact, some of the best times Dave had ever had in that town were during the two weeks that John had been living there.  
  
The thought finally struck him when he watched the channel flip again the moment the discussion about 'Another Day, Another Death' came onto their local news at eleven o'clock, showing a familiar face that Dave didn't care a bit about.  
  
But... maybe John did.  
  
When Dave finished unpacking the last box in the house, he walked and flopped onto the couch, jarring his roommate the smallest bit as he did so. When John glanced over at him tiredly, Dave just heaved a sigh dramatically.  
  
"We're done," He said, before thinking on it, "Correction, _I'm_ done, considering that you found gluing your face to our TV was the best use of time instead of helping me sort through the collective silverware we'd managed to gather up between the two of us."  
  
Watching John sit up, Dave didn't expect it when John opened his mouth not to make an excuse, but to ask, "You know how you can fight?"  
  
Pausing, the blond's eyes narrowed before he nodded, reaching over and grabbing the remote to flick the TV off. It was past midnight, and the glare during the nighttime hours without his shades was throwing Dave off. "Yeah?"  
  
John cleared his throat, turning more to look at his roommate, "Well. Maybe you  could teach me, sometime, maybe."  
  
 Paired with John's weird behavior, this is a red flag for the Strider, who's eyes narrowed as he looked at his friend. "Why?" He asked immediately.  
  
Putting up his hands in a faux surrender, John just rolled his eyes, "I just wanna know how to defend myself! You've been seeing all the people dying in TV, like maybe I should be able to fight if I need to."  
  
Oh. Dave wanted to give a sigh of relief at that. _That's_ why John was acting so fucking weird; he was freaked out. Makes sense as to why John cared so much about the nobody Dave offed last week. So, to try and sate him, the blond shook his head, "Dude, trust me when I say, you're not in danger."  
  
"Well how would you know?" He questioned defensively, "A bunch of random people have been dying lately!"  
  
 "All those guys were probably killed by the same dude, they even said so on the news reports. Unless you've pissed him off recently, you're in the clear."  
  
"Well you really, really don't know that. What if I ran into him or something?"  
  
 "Alright," Dave started, sitting back against the couch and looking at him, "Let's say you did run into him and somehow knew it was him. What would you wanna do, run or fight?"  
  
 "I would wanna fight back. Something as awful and fucking horrendous as the person killing all those people wouldn't be thinking on 'should I spare this guy or not', and I doubt he'd let me get away if I tried running anyways! I'm just saying, it makes me a little paranoid, alright? I don't like the idea of being defenseless. I hate the idea that you were here through all these killings as it is, and you know how to fight!"  
  
Out of everything John had just said, Dave wanted to argue nearly all of it. The mercenary in question would never A: hurt John B: attack someone who wasn't his target, and like fuck John would ever be his target and C: be doing any of this if he had his own choice.  
  
Hearing John call him 'awful and fucking horrendous' as well was also pretty damn painful, and he wanted to change his opinion on him.  
  
But anything he wanted to say got bitten back, because in his line of work, a revealed identity was enough of a reason for a snapped neck. Instead, he shrugged and looked at him, hearing car horns blare down in the streets below their apartment as the lights from downtown Houston lit the place up minimally. "Is this why you've been so freaked the last week?"  
  
Watching him hang his head, Dave knew he'd gotten it right as John shrugged, "They said the guy had a giant hole in his chest. And someone else got gutted, it's just- People die in cities like this every day, and it freaks me out that a maniac like that is making it his job to make someone's final moment as brutal and terrifying as possible."  
  
"It'd never happen to either of us," Dave tried to promise, watching John get a little more distressed.  
  
"You don't know that!"  
  
When silence fell between them, John fell back against the couch, beginning to pick at his nails anxiously. The more Dave thought on it, the more he tried to see this from his roommates perspective; John was just some dude who'd moved here and didn't realize how big the whole battlezone in Houston's underbelly was. All he knew was that there was someone on the loose killing people, and he didn't want to be next on the list. He didn't know that Dave had total control over that, of course, but he never would.  
  
"Fine."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I said, fine," The blond repeated, looking over at him, "I'll train you basic self defense. Whatever I teach you will be enough to get away from any enemy and at least get to safety. I'm not gonna teach you anything that'll kill a guy or anything, though."  
  
"You know stuff like that?" John asked, looking interested and surprised.  
  
"Not anything that I'm willing to teach you," He responded honestly, shrugging. "For right now, you should go get some sleep though, you've got dark circles under your eyes heavy enough to sink you right to the floor."  
  
"They're not that bad," John excused, but gave a bit of a nod as he began to yawn, "But fine, fine. What time are we gonna 'train' or whatever?"  
  
"We begin early, at the crack of noon," Dave decided, pushing himself to stand and patting John's shoulder on the way to his room, "Bring sunscreen, water, and gauze."  
  
"Gauze?"  
  
-  
  
"Time out- Please-" John wheezed, dropping to his knees on the tarmac of their rooftop.  
  
When they'd been looking at places to call home a few months back, this one had stood out to the Strider on one very specific ground; it had roof access. _Exclusive_ roof access. Reminiscent of home, with a lot less bloodstains on it. It was practically perfect.  
  
Even more perfect when formed into a halfway decent training ground in Dave's capable hands.  
  
After John had passed out the night before and Dave made sure he wasn't given another assignment, he'd went topside and turned the place into a combat area for his friend. AKA he'd had to go out to the store, buy a bunch of shit that he'd considered useful, and go from there.  
  
It had taken until five in the morning and more than a few trips to get everything to the roof, but in the end it was worth it.  In the morning, when John had first walked up, he looked at all of it and asked if Bro had given any of it to him, to which the blond replied, "Nah, I sprung on some new shit. I needed equipment anyways, and you can use this stuff too."  
  
If John wanted to comment that Dave didn't have enough saved to be spending it so frivolously, he kept it to himself, instead assuring his roommate that he was totally ready to start working, and that this would be a really fun experience.  
  
After the first ten minutes, they were both shirtless from the cotton covers being soaked with sweat from the Houston sun. John sprayed on sunscreen like his life depended on it and still turning pink on the shoulders while Dave just tanned, much to John's annoyance.  
  
Ten minutes after that, John was guzzling down water like there was no tomorrow while the blond watched with barely veiled amusement.  
  
After an hour, the ravenette was totally ready to throw up and lie down.  
  
As he scrambled for his inhaler in his pocket while the tarmac burned his knees, Dave walked over to him and crouched down, his head tipping a bit as he looked John over,  "You alright?"   
  
"I c- Can't- B-" Fighting to get in a deep breath, John managed to pull out his inhaler, but dropped it the moment he got it out of his pocket. It skittered and fell against the rooftop, making John groan in frustration and slam a fist against the tarred roofing, before Dave casually reached over and grabbed it. He took off the protective guard of the mouthpiece, and without further ado, he pushed it against John's mouth and gave it two quick presses, filling John's lungs with a freezing solution and making him cough, but suck in air greedily the moment after.  
  
"Thanks," The asthmatic one managed to get out, falling back to sit on the black tar under him and turn his face skyward. The sun was high and the temperature was higher, causing John to wonder what the hell was wrong with Dave that this seemed like a good time to work out. It was only about one in the afternoon, and somehow he felt like they'd been doing this for ages.  
  
So far Dave had been teaching him how to punch properly. He had to dumb down what he'd already learned when he and Jade had taken classes, but even his basic stance and structure got ripped apart and reset by his new teacher, who'd managed to get him pacing all over the roof with basic avoidance.  
  
The blond had already promised it'd get much worse the more they trained.  
  
"Water?" Dave offered up, holding the bottle out with a wiggle and smirking a little as John glared and snatched the container up.  
  
"Like you need to ask," John huffed, downing half the thing as he sat back before talking again as he distractedly recapped it, "How long- Did it take you to learn this stuff?"  
  
"Eh." With a shrug, Dave sat down next to John, enjoying the heat of the graveled rooftop under his palm, "Been doing it since I can remember. Bro taught me, and I used my own techniques. Useful shit though, and you're already a natural."  
  
"Really?" John perked up a little at that, looking surprised as Dave gave a nod.  
  
"Yeah dude, you've got fast fucking feet, first off. Second off, you were able to adapt your punching pretty easily. The shit you were throwing before would hit, sure, but it wouldn't have an effect. It'd just end up twisting your wrist later down the road in the middle of a showdown, and you'd be stuck nursing a broken bone when any enemy around you could take advantage of that."  
  
"Exactly who do you think I'm gonna be fighting?" John teased, raising an eyebrow as he hung his head, resting his elbows on propped up knees as he tried to catch his breath.  
  
"I don't think it'll be anyone you're worried about. But Houston's notorious for how many shitty wannabe villains and heroes it has. I'd hate for you to ever get caught up in that kind of crap and be left totally defenseless. Then again, exactly who do you think you'll be fighting and needing this training for?"  
  
When John was silent, Dave glanced over and saw him nodding, though his shoulders were hunched oddly. It was surprising that John didn't answer, but he didn't think on it long before Dave cleared his throat, pushing himself to stand once more and offering out a hand to John. "Ready to restart?"  
  
Giving a groan, John lifted up a hand and linked it with Dave's wrist, pulling himself to stand. "Yeah, let the torment commence. Not like I have anything better to do tonight than rub aloe on my face and shoulders, right?"  
  
When Dave's expression lifted into an amused one, John gave a chuckle back, moving back into the widened stance that Dave had been teaching him.  
  
Until Dave's phone pinged and interrupted them.  
  
It was sitting under Dave's own shirt, next to where John's phone was hidden away from the heat of the sun as well. Dave held up a finger in a silent 'one second' before jogging to the other side of the rooftop, fishing it out.  
  
A little envelope was next to an unknown number on his screen, causing Dave to want to sigh. He didn't, of course, and opened it immediately, glancing back at John before reading the message.  
  
  
**'1 AM, 53rd and Plaza. Rooftop. Ava Mycron. Stop by office for further details.'**  
  
  
Reading the message twice over, Dave deleted it from his inbox and dropped his phone back down, turning to his friend, "Sorry 'bout that. Ready to continue?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah, but uh... Dave?"  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"I think I need to bandage up my knuckles," John wiggled his fingers as he looked at his knuckles, which were getting swollen from punching both the padding Dave held up and the blond's palms. But, his expression turned guilty as he admitted, "I forgot the gauze."

The roll of the stuff got thrown at him with no warning, but he caught it with a grin, glad his friend had his back. "Told you to bring it, Egbert, next time I won't be so merciful."

"Thanks man."  
  
-  
  
"Do you honestly think going out tonight is a good idea?" Rose questioned as she looked at her friend, glancing him up and down once as he struggled into his outfit with a hiss.  
  
Dave had been out like a light since nine, having dragged himself inside and passed out on the couch before John woke him up and ushered him into his room. They'd gotten back inside around five in the afternoon, mostly because John was afraid he was going to overuse his inhaler and even with their long breaks in between fights, they'd been out there for five hours in the sun. John's skin, even layered with sunscreen, was now a bright, bright pink, including on his nose and cheeks. Dave didn't even look a little burned, but had still passed out with a snore in their sofa at around six, which was very unsurprising. The dude either went a week without sleep, or slept for two days straight. After getting him back to his room, John expected him to stay out until morning without a problem.  
  
He'd gotten a call from Rose at about eleven, when he was just starting to get dressed. It had been almost a week since he'd been out and around Houston to keep the peace, and while Dave was helping him learn, he felt like he should be learning out in the field and putting new techniques into practice. Mostly, he felt positively cooped up, and the feeling of flying was practically needed at this point to keep him sane. Who knew? Maybe it'd help his skin cool down.  
  
When he'd turned on his webcam and flashed off his new shade of skin, Rose had to bite back a smile, but failed horribly. He'd been texting her all week while she had time at work up in New York, telling her how he felt about ever meeting that merc because there was no chance in hell he could tell Jade about it without her ripping into him. Rose understood that of course, and tried to console him the best she could.  
  
The problem was, John wasn't having a hard time rationalizing coming face to face with a killer.  
  
He was having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that what the dude had said to him had made actual _sense.  
  
_ Of course, he left Rose out of knowing that, but part of him had the sneaking suspicion she had an inkling he was hiding the thought from her.  
  
When he'd started to get dressed after talking about his day with Dave, though, is when she started pointing out that perhaps he should get some rest.  
  
"I need to, Rose! It's been a week, and luckily enough, that psycho hasn't killed anyone else. If I'm lucky, I can catch him in the act tonight and stop him forever."  
  
"So, kill him?" Rose queried with a tilt of her head, causing John to stumble when the shirt got stuck over his face.  
  
"No!" He argued from behind the cloth, "Of course not!"  
  
"Then how else would you stop him 'forever'?" Painted fingernails curled into sarcastic quotation marks next to her eyebrows, even if John couldn't see her from behind the blue material.  
  
"I don't know, get him locked up or something." Finally getting the shirt down with a wince, the light material slid and rested over burnt skin, causing John to give a sigh. The outfit was one he'd received while still in Washington, as a gift; Rose's girlfriend had gone absolutely insane at how terrible John and Jade's thrown together outfits were when Rose had figured them out, and made sure to make Christmas a day of fashion correction for both parties. There was heavy duty plating on his shoulders and sides, but it was pressed thin, making it something he could move easily in, which was appreciated.  
  
It was also freezing when first put on, which at the moment was an absolute blessing.  
  
"Do you honestly think this man would let you catch him at all? From what you said, he stabbed a distracted man in cold blood and twisted his blade just to be sure the deed was done. He doesn't really strike me as the valiant type. I wouldn't be surprised if he either killed his way out of confinement or injured you greatly to avoid it." Falling silent for a moment, Rose's face was suddenly hidden from view as John threw his old shirt over the camera, shielding him from sight and covering her own picture as he began to change pants. When her voice spilled from the speakers again, it sounded questioning, "Didn't this man say that he only attacked his target?"  
  
"Yeah?" John questioned, pulling up his pants and leaning back to view the hook system that Kanaya had assured 'Would make sure they never fell even close to off', "What does that have to do with anything?"  
  
"... John you shouldn't be going out looking for him."  
  
" _What?_ " Snatching his shirt off of the monitor, John looked into the camera like Rose was insane, "He's a mercenary! He's a bad guy! And if he's been doing this for this long, obviously nobody else is gonna stop him except for me!"  
  
"Maybe there's a reason for that," She said flatly, her mouth pressing into a line, "From the police reports I read, each death was fairly quick. He knows how to kill a person in several obvious ways, and if he's only going after his target, you don't want to get in his sights. Don't make yourself a mark just because you can't leave well enough alone."  
  
"Do you hear yourself right now?" He scoffed, moving over to his dresser and slipping off his glasses, fishing out his contacts from his top drawer, "You're telling me to not try and stop a bad person."  
  
"Look," She started, scratching behind her ear as she gave a deep chested sigh, "I know that you want to get him, and it's a very respectful cause. But have you ever thought that maybe he's going after specific people for a _reason_?"  
  
"A reason besides money?" John challenged, holding his lids open to try and get a contact in his left eye.  
  
"Mercenaries are renown for their skills in taking out prime targets. Some have even taken part in the assassination or presidents and different leaders," The blond rattled off, "If he's killing a few people in Houston, maybe they're not people that are viable to be saved."  
  
Blinking as he got the bit of plastic over his eye, John slowly turned to look at the camera, his expression stunned, "That is the worst thing you've ever said."  
  
"You can't save everyone, John."  
  
"You can try!" Sighing, he went back to putting in his other contact, "It's always worth trying."  
  
"Even if the person is known for killing children, like the last one?"  
  
"Maybe the last guy was an outlier. What if the next person is just a good person?"  
  
"Then they wouldn't be one of his targets."  
  
Groaning, John had to rapidly blink before turning back to his computer, adjusting his eyes to his contacts a bit. "Rose, I need to go."  
  
"You're not leaving because you're realizing I have a point, are you?"  
  
"I'm leaving because it's nearly midnight and I don't know if I can even find this guy, let alone if I've already missed him. That and it's way later in New York than it is here, and you have work in the morning."  
  
"Don't let me keep you," Was the dismissal he was given with a flat tone on Rose's part, her head shaking a bit, "But please, John. Be careful, alright? Know when to step back."  
  
"Definitely," He promised, flashing a crooked smile before scooping up the mask that'd fallen on the floor when he'd taken his suit out. "Night Rose."  
  
"Goodnight, John."  
  
Shutting his laptop, John tilted his head downwards and slid the material on his face, having to adjust the back a bit to get his hair down flat enough that it didn't bump. Walking to the other side of the room, he flicked the light off before locking his bedroom door. The last thing he'd want is for Dave to walk into an empty room and worry, but if he ran into a locked door, it'd be a lot easier to dismiss.  
  
Stepping over the mess of clothing and unpacked items on his floor, John went over to the massive windows, and opened one of them.  
  
Standing on the ledge, he took a deep inhale, held it.  
  
And fell out.  
  
-  
  
**Target: Nightshade**  
**Real Name: Ava Mycron**  
**Husband: Divorced**  
**Assets: Blade work, Speed, Blending Capabilities**  
**Alliance: Mercenary**  
**Employer: (Previously) The Spade, (Currently) gone rogue**  
  
Debriefing had happened around ten o'clock, after John had lovingly acted as Dave's alarm. Nothing wrong with a quick nap before a job, right? When he'd been ushered to his room under the insistence of getting more sleep, he'd waited for the resounding click of John's door before slipping out, bag slung over his back and shades firmly in place.  
  
He'd changed when he'd reached his offices for debriefing, this month located at Achieve Organizations, which usually helped with rehabilitation from bodily injuries for different clients when it wasn't also fronting one of it's buildings to a crime ring.  
  
Apparently this new target was divorced from one of Slick's workers, who was in a separate branch from Dave entirely. Technically, Slick was an separate branch entirely; with Noir running the show, he had different people running different areas, and Spade Slick's seemed to get in more trouble than not, making the blond's services a crowd favorite. From what Dave could put together, the guy had fucked over his wife massively over unjust lawsuits, not to mention that she'd been working for The Spades at the time as it was. She'd left the company when the divorce papers had gone through, and intel managed to find out she'd been planning on killing off her ex hubby later on that night.  
  
Of course he'd been moved somewhere that was deemed 'safe', but she wouldn't know that.  
  
All she'd know is that she'd set her plan into action, and within two minutes she'd be eliminated.  
  
Dave's job was, actually, particularly easy this time. Just be at the right location by one in the morning, and take her out.  
  
The biggest problem he was facing, however, was that it was currently ten minutes to one, and he could hear someone on the rooftop he was set to wait on, the place that his target planned to sneak into the building through according to her plans. The footsteps were somewhere in front of him.  
  
A simple peak caused him to give a deep chested sigh and walk out, looking at the who'd stumbled into view.  
  
"Great, hi, you're here to fuck things up again," Dave greeted through gritted teeth.  
  
"You know, for trying to be discreet, you really shouldn't dress all in red."  
  
"You know, for trying to be a fucking pain in my ass, you really know exactly when to show up at just the wrong time."  
  
"Oh I'm sorry, did I stop you from stabbing another person through the chest again?" The blue clad one snarked, causing Dave to roll his eyes behind his mask.  
  
"Yeah, actually, give it ten minutes and you're gonna be right where I need to be. You have exactly twenty five seconds to be gone or I'll give you a permanent vacation to the afterlife and you'll be stuck as a shitty ghost in a terrible outfit."  
  
Funnily enough, the guy actually seemed offended by that, putting a hand on his chest, "Whoa hold up, a friend made this for me, it looks great. Better than the trash hobo look you're going for."  
  
"At least I can admit mine's a trash hobo look. I kill for a living, I don't need people sucking my dick over how great my outfit looks." Lifting a hand to scratch at his cheek through the material, Dave's eyes narrowed, "Why are you here?"  
  
"I-" Clearing his throat, Blue ended up falling silent, shrugging a little before admitting, "I was looking for you."  
  
"Cute, but I need an actual reason."  
  
"To stop you, before you got another 'target' or whatever. Also, not cute, fuck off."  
  
"So did nothing I said the other day get through to you then?"  
  
"Look, nobody deserves to get killed."  
  
"And what were you planning on doing with me, then?"  
  
"Getting you locked up, probably."  
  
"Riiiight." Clicking his tongue, Dave shook his head, "Not gonna happen. Nice thought though, I can really see how your plan of meeting me on a rooftop when I'm a skilled fighter and you can kinda dance on air worked out for you. Especially since you practically helped with my last kill after fucking it up the first time and have absolutely no means of containing me."  
  
Watching the guy go rigid, the mercenary damn near hung his head in boredom as the one in blue stepped forward defensively, "I did _not_ help!"  
  
"Right, so keeping him distracted for me wasn't assisting me at all." Moving to sit next to the door leading to roof access, Dave began to idly pick at the rubble under him, letting his head fall back.  
  
"No no no, I was fighting him because when I got up there, he attacked me."  
  
"You were up there in the first place because you knew he was a bad guy, which in your books, warrants a fight in the first place."  
  
Scoffing, Blue let his head hang, while Dave just turned his own to lazily look at him. "What, no monologue to spit out about justice or anything like that?"  
  
"What, are you expecting me to fight you and rattle off a catchphrase or something?"  
  
"Usually any hero I fight has to do it beforehand, so I'm expecting the same from you. Maybe by the time you're done I'll actually care enough to stand up and fight back."  
  
"Fine. I am the night-No, wait, that's already taken." Clearing his throat, the vigilante restarted, resting his thumb and forefinger against his jawline in though, "When people are in trouble, I am ther- Aw come on, that's just cheesy! This whole hero vs villain thing is harder than it seems."  
  
"How about 'I'm here to kick ass and chew bubble gum, and that's a damn fine ass to kick?" The mercenary across from him suggested, idly flicking pebbles towards the only other person occupying the rooftop they were on.  
  
"You can't ruin Duke Nukem like that!"  
  
"Look, it's not my fault you're the hero with the shitty one liner."  
  
"It's not my fault you're the villain that has no taste!"  
  
"Mercenary, get your shit right. And if you don't have a witty one liner, I'm not gonna fight you, sorry buddy, looks like you're shit outta luck."  
  
"You're insufferable."  
  
"Thank you, you can go now."  
  
"I'm not going, I'm staying to warn your next target."  
  
"Warn 'em? They're trying to kill their ex, they don't need a warning, they know that they're probably in trouble." His tone got condescending as Dave pushed himself to sit up further, tipping his head as he looked at the hero, "Surprisingly, when you kill people, there's a chance you'll get killed. Crazy shit."  
  
"So there's a chance you'll get killed then?"  
  
"Someday probably, but definitely not by you."  
  
"You don't know that."  
  
"Yeah I do. You had a golden opportunity this entire time, and instead we've been bantering back and forth. I think it's safe to say, I'm pretty safe."  
  
"I did punch you last time."  
  
"Yeah, but it was weak as fuck. I don't even have powers and I still managed to recover from that pretty quickly."  
  
"Wait, you do-"  
  
"Shut up." Lifting his hand, Dave stilled.  
  
The rooftop went silent, nothing but noise pollution from the streets below reaching them, before Dave turned his head and pressed his ear to the door he was sitting against.  
  
Voices on the other side had him standing in no time, motioning at Blue with a thumb, "Move."  
  
"What?" The guy asked, before the figure in red was stepping backwards, looking at the rooftop across from them. It was about ten feet lower, but also had a gap of roughly eight feet.  
  
Good enough for an attempt in Dave's mind.  
  
"Move!" He hissed out again before his feet slammed with every step, sprinting as fast as he could. The ledge approached fast, and when his toes hit the edge he vaulted off, free falling for a good five seconds.  
  
His shoulder took most of the impact when he hit the neighboring rooftop, his lungs getting pressed for air when it happened. Rolling over onto his back, he had to take a second just to try to suck in air before giving a cough, pressing out what little oxygen he'd managed and forcing himself to stand. Next to him, Blue drifted down without a problem, which mostly pissed him off. But, he did get to shove the hero hard behind one of the tarps draped as a temporary wall facing the building they'd been on previously, hiding him from view before he joined behind it as well.  
  
"Ow!" The guy hissed out, turning to look at Dave with an assumed glare, "What the hell are yo-"  
  
Laughter filled the quiet night from the rooftop the both of them had just been occupying, causing either side of the tarp to now have a pair of eyes peaking over the edge.  
  
Four people had come out with drinks in hand, laughing and some leaning on each other. This caused Dave to pinch at the bridge of his nose as he slipped back behind the tarp, trying to think of a way to work around this. "Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck."  
  
"What?"  
  
"There are people there."  
  
"... And?" The blue one questioned.  
  
"There's gonna be a blood thirsty mercenary on that rooftop in what, three minutes?"  
  
"You don't think they'll-"  
  
"Look, this may come as a fucking shocker to you, but not killing anyone in their path is damn rare for a mercenary. Usually, even if someone's just being a fucking bother or it sounds amusing at the time, throats get sliced. I don't make that my prerogative, but if there are four witnesses up there, my target's definitely gonna want them out of commission."  
  
"Oh shit."  
  
"Yeah, oh shit. This is where your part comes in."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You need to use your powers, princess, for something other than floating on your toes."  
  
"If princess is supposed to be derogatory-"  
  
"It's because you're acting like a grade A asshole with a crown on his head."  
  
"Then why doesn't 'prince' work?"  
  
"Not douchey enough. Maybe heiress, but- Wait, 'Air', 'heiress'."  
  
"Are you serious right now."  
  
"Not my fault you can float on air, it's a damn good pun. Look, if you're that focused on the gender of it, I can change it.  'Heir' works, it's pompous and a pun."  
  
"Focus!" Snapping his fingers, Heir waved to get Dave's attention, "If I don't do something, they're gonna die."  
  
"Then do something about it."  
  
"Wow aren't you a fucking helper."  
  
"My job is to kill people who know they've probably got it coming. I don't protect and serve."  
  
Groaning, Heir gripped at where his hair would be on his mask, wrinkling it a little as he thought on it. Glancing between the merc and the rooftop, the vigilante sucked in a deep breath, "Okay, uh- How will the other mercenary get up there?"  
  
"She has cloaking gear. Besides that, she's damn near silent, so probably scaling the damn place."  
  
"Why can't we just go over and warn the people?"  
  
"First off, most of them are drunk. Second off, corralling a bunch of tipsy adults within the next minute isn't gonna be easy, and I have another job to do."  
  
"Then what do yo-"  
  
When a loud scream echoed from the rooftop next to them, both figures shut up and moved to look at the scene happening. Across from them, the four adults who'd most likely been up to the rooftops for fresh air and conversation were huddled together, one of them having blood staining her shirt a bright red across her shoulder. A woman was stalking towards them with a gun in hand, causing both Dave and Heir to look at each other for a moment.  
  
She was two minutes early.  
  
"Go," Dave ordered immediately, watching the Heir shoot off like a bullet towards the group, before looking around. He needed to get across the damn rooftops, but had no idea how.  Looking up, he noticed the canvas they'd been hiding behind was connected to a mass of piping, a board balanced over it to most likely cover it from any rain over the night.  
  
Grabbing the edging of the tarp, Dave yanked it as hard as he could. It collapsed with a clatter, revealing the long strip of boarding that had been weighing down the material and been hooked into the pipes to keep it in place. It'd be enough to stretch across the gap with the tarp hanging down into the alley below, but just barely.  
  
Eh, it'd have to work.  
  
-  
  
John's shoulder slammed into the side of the woman who'd been holding up a gun towards the group, a round going off into the air as the small pod of people screamed. One of them had been hurt already, that John was certain of,  so hopefully the last errant bullet had missed them completely.  
  
As they fell to the ground, John was pinning her torso with the bulk of his shoulder and side, causing the mercenary to wheeze as the air was squeezed out of her.  
  
What he'd forgotten was that her hands were still free, a gun at the ready in one of them.  
  
Under him, the mercenary shifted her arm and turned her hand, aiming the small handgun with an overextended barrel, a silencer after John got a full look at it, towards John's head.  
  
He was a second too late in trying to shift to grab her hand and turn it away, his eyes pinching shut and both a scream of pain and the bullet blare off at such a close distance.  
  
Stilling, he took a moment to realize that she'd just shot him.  
  
However, nothing on John hurt besides the slight scrape of his clothing against his sunburn, causing his eyes to flicker back open.  
  
The blade of a sword was buried halfway through the woman's wrist and pinning it to the flooring beneath her next to her head, her expression twisted in pain and fingers twitching wildly and unwillingly as the gun fell from her grip, clattering loudly.  
  
Turning his head, he met the sight of a figure in red, feeling his heart begin to beat faster than it had in a long time at the realization of how good the guy's timing was.  
  
Another half a second, and John would be dead.  
  
"Heir." His voice was flat as he looked down at him, "You are an idiot," Red decided with a scoff, dropping the handle of his sword and letting it fall to the tarmac, blade still buried in his targets arm. His foot met the blade, resting on it in a silent threat if she tried to move, "You shot over here with no fucking plan besides 'stop the bad lady'."  
  
"It worked," John pointed out, his voice shaky and unaltered as adrenaline began to flow through his veins, "You just saved m-"  
  
"I'm doing my job," The guy reminded, but if John were hearing right, his tone shifted. Even if his voice was all distorted, he didn't show a lot of fluctuation in his tone ever. This almost sounded... Surprised?  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"She's shot," Red pointed out, motioning over to the woman in the center of the group. One of her friends had the sense to take off his jacket and press the material to her shoulder, but it was turning red quicker than it should have been. "That's your cue."  
  
Dropping his gaze, John let his pin on Red's target relax, pushing himself to stand and walk over to the group. However, he did stop, glancing back at the two mercs. "Can you wait til I get them downstairs?"  
  
"... Yeah." Waving a hand, he motioned at the people, "Just get them out."  
  
John's attention turned away from possibly the most confusing person he'd ever met and instead to a group that was more than willing to listen to them. He helped the woman stand up, having her lean on him before deciding to forgo the stairs when she was too weak from shock to walk. With a careful order for the other three to take the stairs down the the ground floor and call an ambulance on the way, John scooped the woman up bridal style, beginning to carry her down the stairs himself as the other three rushed down in front of him.

He felt fucking ridiculous, if he were honest. He'd helped these people, sure, but every time he'd seen this guy, he'd barely proven himself to be anything more than a bother, and nearly gotten people hurt in the process. Glancing back as he began to step away from the roof, he noticed Red gave him a single nod before he was out of sight.  
  
A loud scream erupted from the rooftop a second before the door fell shut, and John pretended not to hear it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((This was long and late, sorry. Hope you guys enjoyed!))


	5. Blood Brother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Hope you guys enjoy! A little short, but it'll update tomorrow ^^

"Jooooohn," Dave groaned out, his head collapsing against John's lap as the two of them flopped on the sofa together, "For fuck's sake, just hang up."

"I can't, if I do, she'll kill me," the ravenette pointed out with the phone pressed to his chest, his tone positively mournful as his head flopped back to hit against the back of the couch.

It was six AM, each of them having gotten back less than two hours ago and both passing out the second their heads touched the pillows. Had things gone according to plan, they both would have slept in until at very least three, Dave would have treated John to lunch, and they'd talk and play videogames while trying to find a place for John to send in applications for.

Jade had a tendency of ruining the nice things they could share together after getting some much needed sleep, though.

The calls had started at five AM, and John had slept right through them. Fifteen missed, along with eight voicemails, had led the woman to the point of desperation.

She was angry enough to poke at a sleeping bear with a hot iron rod; She'd started blowing up Dave's phone.

Three calls were all it took to get him to pick up with a groggy greeting, before she forced the blond to get up while barking his ear off to pass the phone to John.

When he'd done so, the unintelligible garble that he couldn't make out when she'd been cursing it at him made apparent perfect sense to John, who perked up with a look of exhausted terror.

John was pacing the apartment as the two of them spoke hurriedly in Japanese, while Dave just collapsed against the couch and tried to doze off. Eventually, John's quick speaking turned into long drawn out sentences as his shoulders began to slump, his feet dragging against the floor as his pacing slowed to an idle trek.

It was forty five minutes later that Dave had been forced to sit up so John could sit down next to him, and still Jade's voice could be heard all the way from the receiver to the entire apartment it felt like. His best bro must have stayed up as late as he had, because even looking up at him in the darkness, he could see John's eyes drooping as his cousin continued to chew him out across a thousand miles.

By the time Dave was using John as a pillow, both of them were exhausted, miserable and irritated by the first rays of the sun beginning to light up the dark sky.

"She's in Washington," He pointed out with a huff, scrubbing at his own eyes and having to hold back his next statement to get out a yawn, "She can't kill you."

"She'd fly down here."

"I don't doubt that." He turned and hid his face against John's stomach as the room got a bit brighter, the sun rising at a steady pace. "... I think if we tag teamed it, we could take her."

John gave a chuckle at that, but when Jade snarled out another sentence he immediately went back to soothing her in the language Dave didn't understand. His friends had always told him that if someone cussed you out in their mother tongue, you'd fucked up, so apparently John had massively pissed off his cousin, who hadn't spoken a word of English besides telling Dave to get John on the phone.

Part of him wanted to ditch John and go to his room to pass out again, but the rest of him decided that Jade was too loud anyways, and that his friend was stuck here because Dave actually had the gall to pass off his damn phone at five in the fucking morning. This was his punishment just as much as it was John's for breaking the code of a good roommate, which was usually to respect the sanctity of sleep.

And after the night he'd had, he just wanted to go the fuck to bed.

After he'd split ways with the newly proclaimed Heir, Dave had to report back to their monthly fronted building and go through a long conversation with the people in The Spade's intelligence department, trying to figure out how they managed to get not only a two minute margin wrong on their timing, but also Nightshade's weapons detailing wrong with a gun instead of her usual tactics. Dave had barely said more than five words, but he had to be there through the whole thing with constant assurances that it'd never happen again, all that jazz.

He'd also been questioned by Slick himself, who was asking about the injuries on the corpse that the police had found. When he did a job, Dave did a clean one, and this was not only messy, it was bad publicity on his part. Cut throat, that was unsurprising, but also a nearly detached hand and two broken ribs? He'd never had more injuries on a target than was necessary, part of why Slick valued him highly, and this had 'unprofessional' scrawled all over it in block print.

Dave was a brutally honest person, but with this, he did try to omit what he could. He said that there was an incident with civilians, and got flack that he didn't kill them. But he did try to leave out details about Heir to the best of his abilities, meaning he never got brought up once.

The guy was fucking annoying. He got in Dave's way, and he wanted to be valiant, he refused to see obvious logic, but-

Something about him seemed endeared to the fighter. It was an odd way of putting it, but he could have let a bullet go through his head by someone else's hand and been rid of him, yet somehow deep in his gut he got the overwhelming feeling to protect this asshole.

It was when he'd spoken after Dave had helped him and didn't try to mess up his voice that it struck; This wasn't an adult. It was someone in their teenage years, maybe early twenties by the sound of it. He was seeing shit he wasn't made for.

The kid must have struck a chord for Dave to fuck up his own job to save him.

He was positive that Slick knew something else had gone down, not just civilian mishap. He just wasn't sure if he'd told Noir yet.

Point being, Dave had gotten less than forty minutes of sleep and was running on empty, causing him to yawn again as he used John as a self heated pillow. His head tilted up, however, when he heard the first spoken word of English since John had woken up.

"Thank god." It was sighed into the room as the phone gave a small beep, while John let the phone drop in hand, both of them meeting Dave's shoulder.

"What the actual fuck was that about?" Now that the phone call was over, Dave was free to question exactly what he'd done to piss his cousin off so badly without the impending risk of Jade overhearing and going berserk all over again.

"Rose told Jade something she really didn't need to know," John sighed, waving his hand a little as he moved to sink against the couch. This jarred Dave's position a bit, but it ended up with John stretched the length of the couch and Dave curled up near the middle of it, the two of them squashed together at the legs, "It's no big deal."

"No big deal? What happened to beauty sleep, Egbert, christ, I'm dying here. These dark circles can't even be covered by my shades or any amount of concealer, and I have a reputation of being unstoppable in both my outfits and my hot as hell face. We can't just ignore that I'm running on empty and look like it too."

"Dave, you've been sleeping since yesterday evening, you don't have a right to complain."

Oh shit, apparently he had been.

"I've slept a collective total of about nine hours this whole week. I shouldn't be alive right now, let alone awake." Not a lie in any sort, the proof of that being another yawn starting up the moment he finished talking.

Nodding, John's eyes closed as his toes went en pointe, forcing him to stretch with his arms above his head and nearly knock Dave off the couch. The blond retaliated by letting his own legs push straight, so he was laying down next to his friend instead of hanging off the cushions as his eyes began to droop shut again. He was comfortable, and at least John wasn't moving anymore or talking, so that was a bonus.

Two minutes of silence passed before it was broken by one of the boys.

"We should go back to bed," Dave muttered out, but was only met with the sound of a soft sigh. Prying open a tired eye, he saw John trying to mumble something with his eyes glued shut and his brow furrowed. After a second, his expression smoothed out and his breathing became even, hinting his roommate in on the fact that he'd fallen asleep.

Letting his bloodshot gaze fall, Dave shifted, deciding he'd just have to move back to his bed and John could take the couch. "Get off the phone and fall right asleep.... you fucking dork..." He muttered to the sleeping figure, feeling his limbs get heavier at the idea of leaving their current resting place.

Both of them were asleep within thirty seconds, oblivious to the sunlight that was now filling the living room.

-

"I can't believe he did something so stupid and irresponsible! I am going to walk down to Texas and hit the stupid right out of him harder than any mercenary could!"

Rose sat back with a mug of tea in one hand, sipping while sifting through paper work. Her attention was currently divided between the rantings coming from her friend and client cases she'd been taking care of during the week, and right now her friend was actually garnishing most of it.

The decision to tell Jade about John's hope of finding the Merc of Houston was definitely the reason for this.

After John had gotten off of Skype, Rose began to worry immediately. His dedication was admirable, sure, but that didn't change the fact that he was going after a dangerous person who had more skill than John's avoidance skills could compensate for.

It took her nearly twenty minutes of self conflict before she began to wonder if she should tell Harley about it. Surely Jade would want to know exactly what her cousin was getting into, and besides that, she'd want to put a stop to it as well.

A stray message at seven in the morning on her end was a four in the morning wake up call for Jade, and in resolve a five in the morning wake up call for the boys.

After Jade had finished foaming at the mouth over her faux-sibling, she recalled up Rose, who answered on her laptop which was placed in her office. The building around her was her workplace of psychiatry, and her office was also where she proceeded with therapy, so it was lucky that the place was currently barren of customers when she opened up a video call only to have Jade ranting about being ready to tread down to Washington.

"Jade," The blonde sighed, setting down her drink, "If I'd known you'd react this way, I would have reconsidered telling you."

"I'm glad you told me! I got to talk to John about it!"

"You screamed at him in your first language for nearly an hour while he repeatedly told you that he and Dave were both exhausted and trying to sleep."

"Good. Rose, he's gonna get himself killed! It's like he needs a constant baby sitter or something!"

"But he can handle himself."

"We don't know that!"

"Yes we do, Jade."

"No we-"

"Jade." Her tone was strict she looked at her friend, watching the ravenette's jaw snap shut and clench. "John was trained by you. He knows if he's gotten himself in too deep. Talking to him about your worry is one thing, but avoiding fact is a different thing entirely. We know that both of you are good at what you do, and I understand your concern, but pretending John is inept isn't going to do anything but raise your blood pressure."

"I-" Silence came before Jade gave a sigh, her head dipping out of the cameras frame as her shoulders hunched a little, "He's one of the two people I have left, Rose. I can't have him sticking his neck out there with no precaution just because he wants to be a hero!"

"He is a hero. And so are you." Looking at her friend with a softened expression, Rose thought for a moment before clearing her throat, "Does this mean a lot to you?"

"More than," Jade assured, seeming to have calmed down just a touch before her eyebrows tipped on the far ends in a miserable expression, "He's gonna hurt himself from being stupid."

"... I suppose, I could swing down to Houston for a week, considering I still owe Dave a visit after all these years. I have more than enough vacation time saved up, and I could relay your message better in person than I can over Skype and keep an eye on him for a few days."

It seemed to take a moment to sink in on Jade's part, but when it did her eyes got massive, her hands lifting and shaking a little in excitement as she grabbed the edges of her computer screen, "Seriously?! You'd do that?"

"Anything for my friends," Rose teased, before watching the camera get covered repeatedly as Jade pressed kisses to it with over dramatic sounds.

"Thank you so much!" It was a squeal over the speakers, but Rose accepted it when it happened, sitting back in her chair. Plucking her tea back up, she cleared her throat before taking a sip, feeling the lump there dissipate under the heated liquid.

Houston it was, then.


	6. Mind Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to my fantastic Beta, YourFriendlyHipster!!!! ilu bae

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((I'm so sorry this took so long to update. pls forgive me))

Turning into the couch below him, Dave squeezed his eyes shut a bit. Sunlight was drowning their living room in a basking Hail Mary of golden light and it was completely ruining Dave’s slumber as he began to drift in and out of sleep before becoming actively aware of it.

He didn’t have a single clue as to what time it was besides ‘daytime’ and at the moment he didn’t care. Exhaustion hung heavy in his bones, and while the sunlight was warm enough to act as a blanket, it was too fucking blinding to be anything but a burden. Groaning, he made a note to go buy some light canceling blinds before a light noise was emitted next to him, causing him to still.

It sounded like shifting behind him.

_Did I leave the doors unlocked? Any windows open? Does anybody know where I live?_

Each thought ticked with its own second before another noise sounded, causing Dave’s hackles to rise as his feet scrambled. Disoriented was barely a word to describe his stumble, having thought that his back was facing the front of the couch and not the back. When his feet met the floor, his stance immediately squaring as he stood and wheeled to look at what had been behind him with squinted eyes.

When he was about to lift his hands to ready in a punch, his eyes took their time to adjust to the brightness around him, forcing him to blink several times before seeing the full picture. In front of him, instead of an attacker, intruder, assassin or mercenary, the only thing that was capable of moving was his roommate, who he’d fallen asleep next to.

After Jade’s yelling, they’d both passed out.

Right.

Yawning and scrubbing at his eyes, his shoulders sank towards the floor as his guard came down; defenses sinking as quickly as they’d risen. It was just John. John would never be something he was even remotely threatened by, of course, which meant that he had a second to squint and search around for where his shades had been discarded while his roommate grumbled away in his sleep.

By the time they were back on his face, he momentarily glanced at his phone, which John had left on the end table after he ended the call. It was nearly four in the afternoon, which Dave really wasn’t surprised by. But the fact that John hadn’t woken up in the middle of the night and moved back to his room, was. He didn’t seem like the type to stick around for bro cuddles, but they were both bone tired as it was. How they had slept through the day was predictable.

Reaching out, he pressed his hand against John’s face and fuddled it around, watching his best friends expression screw up and cinch as the blond gave a huff through his nose. “Wake up, princess.”

“Nf-” The sound was small before John reached up and batted at Dave’s hand tiredly, shaking his head, “D’ve, stop.”

“You just woke me up, asshole. You move a lot in your sleep.”

“… Hm?” John was slowly running his own hands over his face, his expression was pinched and his hair was sticking up every direction as he frowned. With his fingers forming a makeshift sun visor, he squinted up at Dave before deepening his expression dramatically. “’M tired.”

“It’s four.”

“Still tired.”

“In the afternoon.”

“Okay, cool?”

“Bro get up, you’re hogging the couch and your sleep schedule’s gonna be more than fucked up.”

“You’re preaching to the choir,” He groaned, turning so he was facing the back of the couch and curling up a little, “Can you get a blanket for me?”

“Dude, go get one yourself.”

“Pleaaaaaaaase?”

“John-”

Both of them were forced to shut up as the doorbell rang through the apartment. Two sets of eyes met each other and held contact, while John’s brow furrowed as Dave’s raised. Pushing himself to sit up, John rolled sunburnt shoulders while nodding back at the door. Dave shook his head and motioned at it himself, but John’s hands met in a praying plead, causing the blond to sigh.

“Asshole,” He mumbled as John grinned, flopping back against the sofa only to hiss in pain. This at least got a smile out of Dave as he walked, opening the door. “Can I-”

Wait.

Keeping his eyes on the woman in the doorway, Dave leaned back a little, calling out to his roommate. “Hey John?”

“Yeah?” Echoed out from the living room, followed by the starting sound of a yawn.

“We’re definitely awake, right?”

“I- Yeah? I think so at least.”

“Why is Lalonde here then?”

“Rose is here?!”

“Yes?” A smooth voice poured from black lips, smiling softly as Dave opened the door a little wider for her. There was the sound of feet pattering, slipping, crashing, John cussing, and then pattering again before John was at the door, greeting her with a hug tight enough to pick her up momentarily. “Oh my god, John, feet on the ground please,” She laughed, wiggling high heels a few inches above the hard wood of the hallway, before she was set back down.

“You’re here! In Houston!” He greeted, looking much more awake and ecstatic than he had five seconds ago. Then, his face fell when he realized, “Our apartment is trashed, I’ll be right back.”

“John-” Rose started, but it didn’t affect his decision to dart back into the apartment, leaving their guest abandoned in the hallway.

The two pale haired adults stared at each other for a moment, before Rose tisked her tongue, crossing her arms. “Hardly the way to greet a friend, Dave. Abandonment in the hallway?”

“You’re not wrong, but it’s the way I greet surprise guests.” The annoyance was feigned before he leaned forward, wrapping Rose up in a tight embrace while her hand patted at his back. “It’s good to see you, Rose.”

“You too, Strider,” She hummed, closing her eyes momentarily, “You’re taller than I expected.”

“You’re more in Houston than I expected,” He volleyed back, letting go of her and peaking down to notice the bags she had with her.

“Fair point,” She teased, her arms falling away from him only to reach down and grab the luggage, one slipping over her shoulder as the other two got scooped into her hands. It didn’t last long, however, as Dave snagged the baggage from her, carrying it inside.

The door fell shut behind the pair of them as they began to walk through the entry way, Dave keeping his gaze forward as he questioned, “Am I gonna get no explanation on the surprise visit? Or did John tell you so much about my gorgeous face you needed to see it yourself?”

“I came by to check on you two.” As she spoke, though, her lips curled into a smile, “I rarely get to visit with either of you now that you’re cooped up together constantly. I was afraid I’d lost you both to the illustrious southern lifestyle. Or even worse; domestic living.”

This did earn a scoff as he rolled his eyes, rounding the corner of their hallway, “Yeah, John and I are so domest-”  
  
Upon reaching the living room, the place did look far more tidied up, with sunlight pouring in from every window and the television on to give quiet background noise. John was in the kitchen, filling up the dish washer and letting water run into a waiting coffee pot. Three mugs were set down, one of them being Dave’s favorite, and the others scouting an ironic ‘Quilting Queen, 2012’ and 'Life’s too short, drink coffee constantly’. “Coffee?” He asked them, looking up with raised eyebrows.

The two shared a look, Rose looking amused as Dave looked as defeated as he felt.

“Yeah, I’ll have some.”

“I’d love some, thank you John.”

“How do you take yours?” He asked, pulling out sugar and immediately putting two heaping spoonfuls in Dave’s, just the way he liked it. This didn’t help prove his point, a disgruntled noise coming out of him as he hauled Rose’s bags to the living room while the girl laughed. Noticing this, John adopted a confused expression, his gaze shifting between Rose and Dave, “Did I say something wrong?”

“Cream, no sugar, and no John, you’ve said everything right.” Setting down her carry on bag, she gave a glance behind her and saw Dave starting to clean up what little mess was left, allowing her the freedom to lean closer to John and speak quietly. “You do know why I’m here, however, right?”

“Uh-” Frowning in thought, John shook his head before realization hit, his brow smoothing as he sighed, “Jade.”

“She’s worried.”

“Worried enough to send you all the way from New York?”

“Worried enough to consider flying here herself.”

Blanching at that idea, John glanced at Dave to make sure he wasn’t listening as he leaned forward, “As happy as I am to see you, I’ve gotta point out she wouldn’t be that worried if you _hadn’t told her_.”

“You’re tracking down a mercenary,” She challenged back, voice hushed, “Who is obviously very set on doing his job and not caring who he eliminates on the way.”

“Uh-”

Watching as his annoyance seeped out of his expression, Rose’s eyes narrowed a bit, “John?”

“I- I saw him again last night.”

“John!”

“I know, I know!” The way she barked his name made Dave glance over, which prompted John to shush her and wave his hands minimally until Dave went back to cleaning,“But it was weird!”

“Weird how?”

“He doesn’t really _care_ that I’m after him.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” She deadpanned, but watched as John shook his head.

“No, I mean- He saved me?”

“……….. Saved you.” Fire seemed to blaze in her eyes, “John, why were you in the position of needing to be saved?”

“The chick- his hit was another mercenary, and she was about to kill innocent people.”

“So you attacked her instead of letting him handle it?”

“Well-”

_“-I don’t know if that’s the same man that’s been killing all those people, but they saved our lives_ ,” A person on the TV said, the volume raising as Dave had the controller in hand. Both Rose and John turned to look at it as sketches were released; A man with a blue mask and outfit and a mix matched, red and black clad figure filled the screen. Rose’s eyes went a touch wide as she flicked her gaze to John, but he wasn’t much better than she was in the department of being utterly surprised.

“It was insane! When Kelly got shot, we were so panicked, and out of nowhere this blur of blue saved us,” A man, with the subtitle of Kyle Tarell under him, started. John recognized him as the one who’d used his jacket to stop 'Kellys’ bleeding. “The shooter and him tussled, and before she shot him in the head this dude in red sprinted forward and sliced her hand clean off!”

“Were you aware that this is the same man that’s been reported as the cause of the most recent string of deaths in Houston?” The reporter asked, the microphone tipping back in front of the guy as his head shook.

“I don’t believe that for a second. He was our knight in shining armor. If he hadn’t saved the blue guy, that shooter would have turned on us.”

“There you have it folks,” The narrator started, the picture switching from the interview to a pan of the building that John had been on fifteen hours prior, “Is there a new Knight in town? Or is it the same Knight that’s been terrorizing Houston? More on this story at five.”

“Holy shit,” Rose breathed out softly as Dave let out a whistle.

“New scandal, huh?” He teased, bouncing his eyebrows. Both Rose and John fixed their expressions as he turned to look at them with an innocent gaze as he glanced at the mugs. “Having problem with the coffee there, Egbert?”

“What?” He asked numbly, before shaking himself back to the moment, “Yeah, sorry, got a bit distracted. The news around here is a lot different than Washington’s, heh.”

“It’s pretty crazy, I guess,” Dave agreed, trailing out of the living room only to pick up Roses bags, “Lalonde, for the time being, you can crash in my room if you want.”

“Thank you,” She said, flashing a winning smile and not letting it drop until their friend had disappeared down the hallway. Turning around, her hand grabbed the front of John’s shirt, pulling him over the kitchen island and knocking over the empty quilting mug. Her voice was low and a practical snarl, the protective side of her flaring, “John. You promised you were going to be careful, and you just let a renowned _psychopath_ save your life last night?“

"That wasn’t the plan!” Was the counter argument he gave, his own expression contorting in annoyance, “I didn’t want to work with him. It just happened!”

“It just happened?” She repeated, giving out a disbelieving laugh as she let go of his shirt, “It shouldn’t have just happened! You shouldn’t have been out there at all. You nearly _died_ , John.”

“But I didn’t.”

“Don’t pull that on me, I’m a therapist and I know that’s a cover up phrase for, 'I know I nearly did but avoiding that it happened will put off the panic that it did, in fact, happen’.”

“Don’t pull out the mental talk on me.” Leaning back and setting the cup back up, John slid a hand through his hair, his face pinching and making his glasses ride further up on his nose as it scrunched. “He helped me save those people.”

“A mercenary with a heart?” Sitting down on one of the stools Dave had bought for their kitchen, Rose rested her fingers along her brow.

“Yeah, he even gave me a nickname.”

Pausing, Rose’s gaze slowly drifted up until she was looking John dead in the eye, her head bouncing back a little as she gave a disbelieving, “What?”

“He calls me Heir.”

“It’s a pun,” She said with a deep chested sigh. “But nicknames, John, are a form of endearment. He’s getting used to you, and you were present the last time two times he took out a target. If you make this a theme, he may get used to you.”

“I’m not gonna let it get that far,” He tried to promise, but judging by Rose’s face, she wasn’t buying it. “I’ll go about my normal stuff, helping people, and- I won’t go after him.”

This caused her to perk up, her hand falling away from her face as she looked at him, “At all?”

“At all. I won’t go searching for Knight anymore.”

“Oh my _god_ John, what did I just say?”

“The news called him it first!”

Her forehead met her hand while John ducked away to go make coffee, and if her makeup hadn’t been good, she would have dragged her hand down her face. She’d rushed to JFK airport just to make it to Dallas on an emergency flight, drove the three hours needed to get to the boys, and was still late in getting here to keep John safe.

“Dave?” She called out, not bothering to lift up her hand.

“Yo,” He greeted from the back, obviously cleaning his room so she could stay there.

“I’m here for a month.”

Maybe she could keep John from killing himself during that time.

She needed to call Kanaya, set up her vacation time, and find a way to get a hotel room.

This was going to be a long vacation.


	7. All Heart

“Dave?” Rose’s voice rang out from the kitchen as Dave scrambled to shove his uniform down in his backpack, planning on finding a place out of the apartment to hide it. It was dangerous enough keeping it in the house with John around, but Rose? That’s like putting a blood hound in the middle of a crime scene with the damn murderer riding on his back.

“Yo,” He responded casually. The sheets were ripped away from the bed, and Dave decided to throw them away seeing as they were covered in various rust colored blood stains. None of it was still on there, of course, having been bleached repeatedly, but the reminder of his own injuries were an obvious mark. Common courtesy. He’d had them for years, and all the washes had made them soft in a way only overuse can achieve. Also, he did hate throwing out good shit that wasn’t out of repair, but traumatizing one of his best friends wasn’t really in his plans for the day.

“I’m here for a month.”

That caused the blond to freeze, face full of sheeting and a backpack slung across his shoulders.

A month.

_A month._

Spade had just asked him to get a hit in the next week. Payment for fucking up last nights job so badly and here he was with not one, but two housemates to duck away from. When he didn’t speak, he at least let out a sigh of relief that Rose had taken that as an open invitation by not pushing at all. Closing his eyes, calloused fingers slid into his hair and gripped tightly as the bedding swished before landing on the floor. Okay, he could get through this no problem. He just couldn’t come home to shower off the blood, leave too late, get back too early, or be gone for too long. Rose’s schedule was completely different than John’s, and god fucking knew that her sleep schedule would be off the damn wall.

He also needed to find a place to wash off his bloody clothes that wasn’t his en suite bathroom sink.

Speaking of that.

His mind continued to crank out ideas of what he could do as his feet dragged towards the bathroom, John and Rose talking about something menial in the kitchen. Crouching and pulling out spray on bleach, a brillo pad, and a dry rag, Dave stood up and looked down at his sink. It was old, cracked, and the hairline fractures were stained a more obvious brown and red combo than they should have been. Any bit of discoloration got a dousing spray of bleach, a hard scrub, and a dry wipe with a slowly whitening grey cloth.

What could he do with this?

John, he could work around. John never came into his room, and was so oblivious to everything that he’d never catch on. The fucker was a simple task, and slept granny hours too. Seriously, who passes out at nine?

But with an incredibly observant therapist with a pastime of getting into Dave’s head living in his damn room, this wasn’t possible.

Looking down, he noticed that he’d scrubbed one strip of the sink so hard it had steel streaks from the brillo pad and a distinct lack of blood on it.

He had to think of something.

-

“Dave, back me up here!”

The words brought Dave’s attention front and center as he exited the hallway to his bedroom. His fingers were raw from bleach exposure, but if it were any consolation, his bedroom and bathroom were the least incriminating thing anyone could hope for. As John looked at him expectantly, Dave just started to nod, motioning at his friend, “John’s totally right, one hundred percent.”

“See?” The ravenette defended.

“You don’t even know what he’s insisting,” Rose pointed out, amused as she sat back and looked between them. “I’m hurt that you’d take his side and not mine as well.”

“He’s my roommate and best bro,” Dave shrugged, walking past John and fist bumping before plucking up his cup of coffee. Resting his hip on the counter, he joined in on the kitchen conversation as John turned back to Rose.

“See? You have to stay!”

“I’m not taking an entire bedroom in your two bedroom apartment for a month, John, I refuse.”

“But Dave just spent so long cleaning his room for you!” He defended, and judging by the way his form slackened, Dave could guess that he was doing his best at a pleading expression. Which he wished John would stop because having Rose here made his entire life harder.

But, after how much he’d bitched about wanting to see Lalonde and Harley so badly and now being offered a chance to have one of those options stay with them, refusal would seem suspicious.

God damn it.

“Really, Rose, you can stay. It’s not like I use that place anyways. You’d be offering my poor, neglected bedroom a chance to earn the rent I pay to keep it around.”

“It’s true, he’s a couch junkie. Now please? There’s no point in wasting money on an expensive hotel when you can easily stay in an expensive apartment.”

Dave took too long of a drink of his coffee while John laced his fingers together and tucked them under his chin in a plead.

While the fighters throat burned and the pacifists shoulders pinched, Rose looked between them before finally gave a defeated sigh.

“I think it’s a bad idea, but-”

“Whoo!” Letting both hands form to fists and pump towards the ceiling, John jumped a little while Dave set down his coffee to avoid it spilling out of his mouth as he smiled. “You’re gonna love it here!”

She did give a chuckle at that, sipping at her own bevarage while her ankles crossed, “It’ll be interesting, to say in the least.”

Giving a hum of agreement as he swallowed the last bit of coffee he had, his stomach sank.

He had to request some time off which was practically unheard of, but to do that, he’d have to talk to Slick, and-

Red eyes widened behind his shades as his mind finally went to Slick. Slick, a practical information broker, his current employer, finding out about his _borrowed assassin_ saving some random vigilante.

Oh god. He'd turn him in to Jack. This was the kind of shit they put out a hit for. Heir had been a distraction on his job and led to witnesses and publicity. All things Dave wasn’t supposed to allow.

He was going to get some fucking heroic kid killed.

“…… really don’t think he’s listening at all.”

“Does he always blank out this often?”

“Nah, usually only when he’s trying to figure out a level of mahjong on his phone or reading.”

“Dave?” A soft whistle caused him to blink and snap his attention forward, looking at the two who were currently waving their hands in wide arcs. When he made eye contact, John just rolled his eyes while Rose smiled. “I was saying I was going to buy you two dinner, as a thank you.”

“Sounds stellar. Thai?” Blinking twice, he tried honing in on the moment but still failed horribly. He was going out that night. No exceptions. Warning that fucker was going to be the top priority on his list, even if his stomach rumbled at the idea of eating. He’d lie and say he needed to go to the store even though he did for more sheets and toothpaste. He also needed to do an alley change and hope he could find the blue idiot.

“Perfect,” Rose agreed, while John began to walk out of the kitchen, towards the living room and ushering Rose to follow while he talked.

Yeah. Perfect.

-

John had a blast through the day.

After Rose had finished yelling at him and he’d promised to stick to the norm, the two of them had made up rather quickly. She’d even agreed to stay in the house with them, which John felt more comfortable about. While New York was bigger than Houston, the sheer amount of crime made him uncomfortable with the idea of letting her stay at some random hotel.

Dave had seemed excited too. Well, as excited as Dave can outwardly be. His mouth did split into a smile as he managed to balance his chopstick on his fingertip the longest while Rose managed and John struggled, and also play twenty questions with a mostly straight expression only to go on a rant when John somehow figured out ‘bubble gum’ off of the vaguest of questions. By the time midnight rolled around, the three of them were laying on the floor, Dave’s shades, John’s glasses, and Rose’s earrings in a pile between them as they laughed at past memories.

“Okay, how about the time John asked what the term ‘queef’ was?”

Rose actually snorted and covered her mouth while Dave grinned like a Cheshire, John’s laugh sounding sarcastic.

“Ha ha, very funny. South Park didn’t explain it that well, alright? I was curious! Still not as bad as the time Rose broke that three hundred dollar bottle of wine and replaced it with Welches.”

Gasping, Dave put his hand over his mouth, eyes dragging over the ceiling as he huffed out between laughs, “Lalonde, what would your mother say if she were to ever touch that out of her sixty thousand bottles?”

“Probably that it tasted like childrens food,” Rose giggled, crossing her legs and wiggling her toes a little, “But, Dave, I don’t believe that’s as scandalous as the time you erased your brothers hard drive and pretended that his laptop had gotten stolen instead.”

Going wide eyed, John’s mouth opened in an 'o’ as he rolled into his stomach, looking at Dave. _“Nooooo_.”

This actually drove to Dave covering his face, a deep inhale marking his shame, “Oh yeah. I’d almost forgot about that one, thanks for letting me live that down man.”

“Anytime,” She cooed.

“Is that what you were freaking out about for like, three weeks in the eleventh grade?” John asked, raising his eyebrows.

“I had to stage a break in, John, it was very stressful.”

“Oh my god.”

“I know.” Dave paused. “I was a genius.”

“Dave!” Swatting his shoulder lightly, John couldn’t help but give out a quiet chuckle, his shoulders hunching as his head began to hang. Which, then, slowly dropped into a yawn.

“Oh yeah, I forgot, you have the sleep schedule of Edith, your favorite nursing home resident.”

Placing his hand over Dave’s face and smushing his nose down, John glanced at Rose. “I think I may crash.”

“I must admit, I’m getting tired as well,” She agreed, nodding and sitting up. Lifting her arms above her head in a stretch, she had to bite back a yawn while looking over at the Strider, “It may be the jet lag. Dave, if you’d prefer, I really could take the cou-”

“Nah nah nah, I can’t hear you over the sound of you sleeping on an actual bed,” Dave said, covering his ears while John’s hand stayed on his nose, making him sound weird, “Sorry, it looks like we can’t talk about this until after you’ve finished your visit and stayed in a respectable bedroom. I don’t make the rules.”

“Well then, we’ll speak again in a month.” Reaching over and plucking up her earrings, Rose pushed herself to stand, rolling her shoulders as she walked down the hall to go lie down. “See you boys in the morning.”

“Night, Rose!” John said, using his free hand to wave before looking down at his friend. “You know, Dave, you can stay in my room if you need. I did kinda offer up yours without asking, which was really uncool.”

“What happened to 'couch junkie’?” Dave asked sardonically, before wiggling his nose until John lifted his hand back up. “Actually, I need to go to the store anyways. We’re out of some shit, and now’s the only time it’s not gonna be crowded as hell. Sleep, dude, I’m good with the living room.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

“Alright.” Patting Dave’s face twice and grinning at his expression over it, John pushed himself to stand, his hands stretching above his head as his back popped repeatedly.

“Need me to grab aloe?” The blond thought to ask, which earned a glare.

They both looked at each other before John admitted, “I can barely see you, so I can’t portray 'you’re an asshole’ with my eyes, but it’s in my heart.”

“No aloe then?”

“The spray on kind, please.”

As John began to walk away, Dave sighed into the empty living room, his hand reaching back to snatch up his shades before he bounded from the floor to stand.

When John reached his bedroom, he opened it and closed it behind him, not even bothering to flick on the lights as he quietly toed over to his closet.

This day had an underlying stress under it. When he’d seen himself and Knight being talked about on TV, John had made the startling realization that; oh god, he’d just helped unveil a mercenary. A mercenary that already kinda hated him, and besides that, had actually helped save people, which probably wasn’t good for business.

The sooner he went out and found Knight, the sooner he could-

“Hello, John.”

Damn near jumping out of his skin as he swung to turn, John saw Rose sitting at his desk, her voice pleasant but expression annoyed.

“Heyyy, Rose.”

“What are you doing?” It came out as a sigh as she shook her head, “What happened to the _promise_ of, 'I’m not going out to look for him anymore’?”

“I’m not!” He tried, reaching down to grab the inconspicuous bag he kept his outfit in, “I’m going out to patrol.”

“The same day that a news report came out about you?”

“Well, yeah, why not?”

“Because he’s probably going to be looking for you? This man has managed to go unidentified for how long, and you just brought the light of a thousand news stations to him.”

“Rose-” Pulling off his shirt to change before thinking better of it, John actually ducked into his closet to continue changing away from the scrutiny of their house guest, “I’ll stay away from him! Every time I’ve seen him, I’ve been the one flying and looking for him. This time, I’ll just make sure I don’t see any crime and be back in a few hours. Normal patrol stuff that I did with Jade.”

“Then I’ll wait here.”

“ _What_? Why?! You have a perfectly clean Dave bedroom to crash in!”

“I’ll stay here to make sure you come back at a reasonable time. And relatively uninjured.”

She wasn’t buying this patrol shit for a second, and it was both impressive and absolutely infuriating.

“Ugh.” The noise sounded far more frustrated than John meant for it to, but he still pushed out of the closet with mask in hand, stride headed to his desk. When he reached it, he grabbed his contact case out of he drawer and began to put them in, while Rose stayed silent.

Three minutes later, his mask was in place and his window was open. “Leave this open, please?”

“You have three hours before it closes,” She said, sitting back, “And _when_ you find Knight, tell him he needs a better outfit.”

This time, the fall out of the window was followed by a long winded sigh.

-

It was an hour and a half later when John finally landed. So far, he’d been drifting, keeping an eye out for a blur in red, though he doubted he’d see him this quickly. Usually, Knight took a while to find, and John had never seen him two nights in a row.

His feet dragged heavily along the alley floor, the sound of wet gravel filling up the enclosed space. Light from the streets was far on either side, a good place not to get noticed, with the moon barely helping illuminate the dark area. Glancing up, John took a deep breath, held it, and let it out. He was getting tired of constantly moving, but he needed to find that asshole to say-

“Hey.”

Spinning and tripping a little, John actually had to catch himself with a gust of wind, keeping him from falling back completely. The figure walking toward him didn’t even make a sound with his steps, which was intimidating but unsurprising as Knight stopped in front of him. Swallowing, John actually ducked his head a little. “Hey.”

Looking back on it later, he made the mental note to never take his eyes off of Knight again as he suddenly found his back meeting slimy bricks, the air getting shoved out of his lungs as a solid forearm pressed tightly against his chest. “You need to get the hell out of this city.”

That-

That actually threw John for a loop.

“What?” he asked, looking at him the best he could through the covering Kanaya had made for his eyes. “Look, I’m s-”

“I don’t want some bullshit apology,” The altered voice growled, John actively having to force in a breath at the pressure on his chest. This wasn’t helping the sunburn that was dragging against the wall either, but he still listened as the red clad being continued, “You’re gonna be in a world of fucking trouble if you don’t leave.”

“Why?” John asked, his hand lifting to Knight’s forearm and pressing against it to relieve some of the pressure. It worked, but Knight still didn’t let up or add pressure in the end of it.

“My employer knows all too well who you are by now. That stunt with Mycron’s hand getting chopped off and her ribs broken? It was known immediately that someone had fucked up my hit when that came to light. But I covered it up, which I don’t do. Now with those drunk fuckers spilling out details and giving sketches, and your ass is grass if you stay.”

“Uh-” Raising both of his eyebrows, the material over John’s mouth shifted as he spoke, “Wait, you’re trying to help me?”

“I’m trying to prevent another casualty.”

“By helping me.”

“You just want me to say it, don’t you?”

“It’d be nice, is all.”

“Oh my god.” Letting his arm drop from John, the Knight put his hand over his mask, “Christ, I’m not telling you I’m saving you. I’m telling you to leave this fucking city and not crop up unless you change your outfit and switch up how you use your powers.”

“….. I can’t do that.”

“What?” His hand fell away to look at Heir, “You need to.”

“I have things to stay here for, and I’m not going to stop helping people here because of your little fear mongering campaign.”

“Whoa, fucker, I’m trying to help _you_ here.”

“Ha, you said it!” He earned a hard punch on the shoulder for that, but he’d actually sort of deserved that one even as he let out a hiss of pain. “Okay, screw you too.”

“You are the second most infuriating person I’ve ever met,” Knight deadpanned, “But let me put it in a way you can understand without having do draw it out in crayon; If my boss thinks you’re a problem, I’m getting sent after you.”

“Then why are you trying to get me out of here?” John challenged, his hand going over his shoulder.

“Because- I don’t want to have to kill you, I guess.”

“Why not?”

“Do you question everything this much?”

“Usually, yeah.”

Leather clad hands clenched in fists by his sides as John watched, almost feeling a little guilty. Knight really was trying to help him, but what he was asking was impossible. “Look, Knight, I’m really grateful you’re trying to help, but I can’t leave.”

“Knight?”

“Yeah, the news called you it. You already got me as Heir, so it seemed really funny.”

Huffing out a sound of disbelief, Knight looked at John for a moment and shook his head, “Great. So you’re staying. Then let me ask you this, _Heir;_ think you can do me a favor?”

“Uh… depends on what it is?”

“Never talk to me again.” Lifting up a hand, the merc began to list off, “Don’t find me, don’t touch my jobs, don’t try to ever contact me, don’t even think about me. Got it?”

Brow furrowing, John actually felt annoyance flare up, “And why not?”

“Because I’ll kill you then instead of when I’m inevitably hired to.”

“I’ve talked to you two, well, three time now. Why would I even want to see you again?”

“Because you were out looking for me,” Knight reasoned, and how he knew that, John didn’t know.

“Fuck you,” He scoffed, his hands dropping to his sides. Man, for some reason he was feeling really butthurt about this. “Fine. No finding, no contacting, nothing. Happy?”

“More than.” Without another word, red clad shoulders were facing John as the mercenary receded back down the alley, darkness shrouding him until he was out of sight.  
  
-  


 

When Dave looked back over his shoulder, Heir was already gone. It was weird since by the end of it, he’d actually seemed to be getting a little pissed.

But he couldn’t focus on that. When Slick inevitably asked, Dave would tell him that it was a one time error. Heir was only there as an anomaly and he never talked to him as it was. This could still be passed off and dismissed, and the kid wouldn’t get killed.

Even if he was probably the same age as Dave was, he was still viewing him as someone who needed to be protected, and that was fucking annoying to the blond.

His overshirt, mask, and gloves disappeared and were replaced with a tee shirt and leather jacket, backpack meeting his back snuggly again while shades moved to rest on his nose as he met the street. Falling into step with the few stragglers that were out this late was easy, and he still got to stop and grab new sheets, toothpaste, and on whim, some of those stupid gummies both he and John liked.

He usually viewed them as comfort food, but it’s not like he needed that.

There was nothing to be upset over.

So he wouldn’t talk to Heir again, whatever, big deal.

…. right?

The walk home, though, had him doubting that. The dude was always in the way, and god he never shut up. Funny, but not what you need in a vigilante.

As his feet pattered up the steps to his apartment, the bag seemed heavier and heavier as he continued to dwell.

Heir was the first person he’d ever talked to on his job.

Sure, victims tried to talk to him constantly. Either pleads or attempts to get him to rethink his ‘decision’ to kill them. Even trying to get him to monologue, as if comic books were accurate representations of what he did and why he did it. However, he never talked back to them. There was no reason to, and they never lived long enough to actually change his mind, not like they ever would though.

Heir was afraid of him, at first, but eventually just seemed to be finding him to bug him. Even tonight, he was making it his job to tease and get on Dave’s nerves. Fuck, he even listened to him when he instructed him on how to help.

It was…… nice. Having someone to talk to on such a mentally draining job.

The banter wasn’t bad either.

Opening the front door, Dave was startled to see light flickering from the living room. Slipping off his shoes and shoving his backpack in the upper corner of the hall closet they never used, he carried the bag from the store with him as he walked in.

John was on the couch, curled on his side and watching what appeared to be some hoarding show.

“What are you doing up so late?” Dave questioned, pulling out his phone to glance at it. The time read 3:02 AM in bright white, damn near burning his eyes through his shades. Setting it on the counter, he glanced only to see John shrug, not bothering to respond.

“Bad dream or something?” He tried, grabbing the box of gummies and moving to sit down next to him. Noticing this, John sat up to give him more room to sit as he sighed.

“Yeah, something like that.” Glancing over wearily, he did a double take before looking up at Dave. “Gushers?”

“I guess my Spidey Sense was ringing and sensing you were unhappy,” He teased, passing over the box. “Go on man, dig in.”

Looking at the box on his lap momentarily before looking back up at Dave, John gave a laugh and turned, letting his back rest against Dave’s shoulder while his legs draped over the arm of the couch. Ripping the box open, he passed one of the little baggies to Dave before getting out two for himself and tearing in immediately.

They sat in silence for most of the night, once in a while making fun of whatever show or infomercial they managed to find still playing.

By the time Rose woke up the next morning, still groggy from having stayed up and talked to John when he’d gotten home and told her about Knight, the boys had only just passed out. John was collapsed against Dave’s lap as the blonds head hung over the back of the couch, snoring softly with Gusher wrappers littering the couch, coffee table and floor.

Pink lips tugged into a smile as she stepped past them carefully to go make coffee, yawning as she went.

At least Dave had cheered John up better than she could have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Thank you guys so much for reading!!!))


	8. Life Changer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Wow okay, I know that was a pretty bad break, so I'm really sorry. I'm a sinner, pls forgive my heathen ways.))

_"John!"_

_  
Rose's voice was an underlying, unheard and unimportant addition to the roar around them as John's feet shoved forward._

_Slipping through the crowd, John pushed into a building next to the mass of people, hidden away from prying eyes as a clamor of voices poured from outside, jeering out worry and useless comments over the growing flames. He'd left Rose in that horde roughly ten minutes ago, claiming he needed to 'get something' before running off. She'd only managed to catch a glimpse of him after he'd returned, but now with a backpack slung on his shoulder._

_Now, he was crouching in the doorway of a neighboring but evacuated building, away from the blackening brick by only a few hundred feet, with the imminent collapse of an entire apartment building looming. A hand dug through his backpack to get a handful of material, pulling out his suit as he glanced around again._

_He had to be quick._

_-_

_"Look, it's Heir!"_

_A voice in the crowd caused Rose's head to snap to attention, only to see a blur of blue shoot over them. A few people cheered, but most were still talking to each other, discussing either A: the fire, or B: the lack of people exiting it. Lilac eyes went wide enough to burn from the smoke surrounding her as she watched, beginning to push through the crowd._

_"J-" Stopping herself, Rose's hands started shaking, instead shifting through the bodies faster, "Heir!"_

_A glance back had Heir slowing; Rose had blackened soot on her cheek and chin from the large ashen flakes falling around them, and for a moment, he reconsidered his approach._

_The flames were already burning his skin, and he wasn't even in the building yet._

_Pausing, he swallowed; this was pretty stupid and dangerous, exactly what Rose and Jade had been warning him against for weeks. But damn it, he wasn't just gonna stand by while innocent people died.  Heir looked at her for a moment before giving a small wave with one hand, before shooting off in a bolt towards the door._

_Her head turned only to see blur of blue disappearing into the opening a wooden door had been, having been busted down by the firemen who'd now since retreated as the flames got too high. It also, once in a while, served as the gateway to freedom for the people who managed to get out as the crew in heavy gear retreated._

_"Heir!" She yelled, pushing to stand up. Scrambling forward a few steps as the flames grew, she dragged in another breath. "Get back here, you-"_

_The sound of screaming behind her had her turning on heel, however, as a figure bolted forward. The crowd parted like the Red Sea as a man, masked in red and black, stepped quickly and quietly through the scene. Walking directly passed Rose, the blonde woman recognized him; He was on the news report, though his outfit looked far more refined, with John. The man he'd been so butthurt over, after they'd stopped talking._

_The one that had promised to kill John one of these days if he didn't stop doing what he's doing._

_Knight._

_Feeling her chest tighten in anxiety, Rose shook her head, moving quickly forward and stepping in front of him. "Don't hurt anybody."_

_That, actually, had everyone quieting down. Most of them were staring at her like she was insane, but a few had looks of admiration, others of annoyance._

_She was kind of standing in front of a renowned killer, after all. Especially after last weeks debacle of the decapitated senator. Which, nobody would have known about if it hadn't been for John accidentally outing him all that time ago. "Nobody in that building deserves the business you provide. Please."_

_Silence._

_When he grabbed her arms, a few people screamed, most of the ones around them backing up with a stumble. But, even as she winced, she noticed that the hold he had on her was light. Turning them in a circle, he put her back with the crowd, seeming to look at her directly._

_"Stay. I'm helping." A low and distorted voice was only just loud enough for her to hear, everyone else having their phones out and recording this as it was being too far away to hear._

_"W-" Blinking a few times, her eyes narrowed. Mostly she wanted to ask 'What the fuck do you mean helping, you kill people for a living', but instead she got out, "Why?"_

_"The blue kid." The way he huffed it out reminded Rose of someone, but mostly had her raising her eyebrows. "He's very stupid."_

_"You're after him?" She feigned innocent curiosity, not wanting to give away the fact that she was worried as hell at that statement._

_"Helping him."_

_When he let go of Rose's arms, he turned back to the flames, only growing higher with what appeared to be gusts of wind breaking out windows. But, there was the scurry of feet as a few more people came out of the open entrance, causing cheering as Heir seemed to provide an escape for some lost apartment dwellers._

_"Hey-" Taking a step forward, she was met with Knight stepping into her personal space again, careful hands grabbed her upper arms and pushing her back a step._

_Holding her there in a silent 'What did I just say', Knight eventually let go only to take another step backwards, still facing the New Yorker with his hands up as if he were trying to sooth a raging bull. "Stay," Was repeated softly and insistently, before he turned on heel, sprinting to the open door and disappearing under the blackened plumes.  
_  
-

"Boys? Coffee."

Three weeks prior, John had woken up with Rose plucking up the last of their gusher wrappers, his face buried against Dave's stomach. Her quiet but obvious movements had drawn him to consciousness, and now made him fully aware of the zipper currently imprinting on his face from Dave's jacket as his glasses shifted uncomfortably. "Nnngh."

"Late night?"

"Why do you sound so smug while asking that?" He mumbled, not moving in fear of the release of pressure of all the pieces against his face. There was no way that he didn't have a giant zigzagged line down his cheek, and the arm of his glasses had embedded a line along his temple that would last for the rest of his life.

"Because she thinks we do this often," Dave sighed out, and John couldn't help but flinch at him suddenly talking. He hadn't even known his roommate was awake.

"We don't though," John defended.

"She got here yesterday, she doesn't know that."

"Well she should, we're telling her that it doesn't."

"She still doesn't believe you," Rose added, sipping at her own coffee.

As John moved to sit up and groaned while his skin peeled away from warm leather, Dave stretched his arms above his head and let his toes go en pointe, wiggling them in his socks.

At the moment? John didn't even want to get up. Hanging out with Dave had been fun, and had even cheered him up, but....

God it felt like he'd gotten broken up with.

What the fuck was Knight's problem? Sure, it was difficult job, and yeah, okay, there was a lot of danger. But switching from working together to death threats made no fucking sense.

The news report had to be the breaking point, but still, it sucked.

Ever since he and Jade had split up as crime partners, the job got lonely. Out of all of his patrols, he'd only ran into Knight three times, and they were, well, the most fun.

Except for that time, that was less fun.

Also they were usually horrendous and fucking terrifying, but at least it wasn't straight up silence or fighting.

For a minute there, he'd almost thought they could work together again.

Where the fuck had that thought come from?

Pushing himself to stand, John walked right past the kitchen island, which held two cups of coffee, and towards his room. "I'm going back to bed," he announced, and the sigh Rose gave practically sang her disappointment that he hadn't cheered up.

Last night, he'd been seething. When he'd gotten back home and found Rose dozing in his office chair, he'd slammed the window shut and woke her up with a jolt.

He was spewing off angry insults about that dickhead mercenary before she was even awake enough to comprehend it.

Eventually, after half an hour of the words 'Who the hell says that' being repeated enough times, Rose pointed out that John seemed personally offended by his vigilante identity being told off.

That was when he'd gone out to the living room, watching Hoarders until Dave came and at least kept his mind occupied.

Now, he just wanted to sleep longer and not think about that red clad fucker.

As John's form receded, Dave turned to look at John, raising an eyebrow over his crooked shades. "What was that about?"

"Hm?" She tried to play off, but he shook his head.

"Rose, I spent five hours talking to him last night. I know that he's upset, I just don't know why," he shrugged, beginning to pop his knuckles as John's bedroom door fell shut, the noise reverberating through the house.

"How would I know?" This feigned innocence was shitty on her part, but it's not like she could really tell Dave exactly what happened. John didn't seem to be taking the gift of not fighting a deadly killer well, instead viewing it as rejection and not a saving grace. Going out on a whim, she blurted, "Perhaps he's homesick?"

"Really?" Dave asked, frowning at the thought, "But he loves Houston. Do you think he wants to go back to Washington?"

"No," She corrected, waving her free hand as the other brought her coffee to her lips. Taking a sip long enough to think up a good enough story, she cleared her throat as the mug was lowered and proceeded with, "But maybe he should see the little things of Houston. Things the locals know. You know, to make it homey."

That was so cheesy, but it looked like Dave was actually considering it.

"Should I take him out? Show him some of that shit, see how it goes?"

Nodding vigorously, Rose had to bite back a relieved sigh. She could omit information well, but lying was not her strong suit. Luckily, Dave wrote the story for her, "That's an excellent idea. Plus, you're his best friend. Who better to cheer him up?"

"Nice try Lalonde, but you've hang out with him more than I have in our lifetimes," He defended, before tipping his head back and forth in a 'well actually' gesture, "at least so far." After a beat of silence, Dave pushed himself to stand before walking past and grabbing a mug of coffee, continuing on his trek to his room. "When he wakes up, I'll show him just how much better Texas is than the frozen over wasteland of Washington."

"What exactly do you picture when you think of that place?" Rose questioned with a raised eyebrow as she watched him walk past, leather clad shoulders shrugging up and then down.

"Fallout 3, mostly." Opening the door to the bathroom, Dave let it shut heavily behind him as he set the coffee down, inhaling and heaving a sigh.

Growing up and dreaming about this, he never thought of the possibility of Egbert ever wanting to move _back_ to Washington after they finally got a place together. It seemed like such a foreign concept that he had to have Rose _point it out_ for it to even be an actual theory in explaining why John wasn't acting like himself.

Having John here was actually...... Really great. And when he was acting like himself, John seemed to like it too.

Dave needed to convince him to stay. Somehow.

The plan for the day? Shower, cat nap on the couch, then bug the ever living fuck out of John Egbert until he woke up. After that?

Date night.

-

It was not hard to guess what was a 'bad' way to wake up in the morning was.

Dave Strider dive bombing onto any sleeping person immediately won him the 'shittiest roommate' award, and John was gonna shove that thing down his throat the second he managed to get a breath.

"Hhhhhhhhhhh-" Turning on his side and wheezing loudly, John fought to inhale as clothing got tossed on his face, Dave already talking.

"Happy two in the afternoon, buddy. Welcome to Houston, I'll be your tour guide today, and it looks like we've got a long as fuck trek through the guts of this city for a stop at laser tag, the best french fries in the world, and later on tonight, the most romantic getaway of your life. Which isn't hard to beat, considering that the only romance you've experienced is what you've read in shitty manga." Groaning and rolling over, John glared at Dave's blurred form, who looked to be tugging open the large curtains covering his windows, "You have ten minutes to shower before I start singing Rick Astley at you through the door and sneaking in to steal your towel."

"What the hell, man?" He asked, sitting up and scrubbing a hand over his eyes lethargically, still not opening them fully against the light now filling the room.

"You've been acting weird."

"Weird?"

"Mopey and jumpy. Ever since you moved in, actually, but last night was just a little too much for comfort. So, I'm gonna show you that you'll love Houston if you give it a chance," The blond assured.

"Dave-" Sighing his name out, John was about to make up an excuse on why he already didn't like Houston, before he felt his glasses slip into his hand.

"Come on," Dave said, and as the ravenette put on the eyewear and looked up, he noticed that Dave actually looked a little pleading, "Let me win you over, Bachelorette style. After today, if you're still homesick, we'll talk. But until then, just do a proverbial trust fall and let me show you all the good shit in a condensed, twelve hour tour."

Looking at those stupid shades for a moment, John's heart and resolve melted a little bit at Dave's ignorance. He thought John was homesick, like that'd be the only reason he was this upset. Still, he really was trying his best to help, which was both endearing and and really nice. Sighing over-dramatically, John waved a hand, " _Fine_ , fine. Try to prove me wrong."

Seeing his friend smile instead of keep his usual blank expression made John grin right back, stumbling out of bed and griping the entire way, but deciding to let his attention focus on Dave today. Not work, just his friend.

It'd be fine.

-

"Okay, wait, so what's the difference between a mocha and a latte?"

"A mocha is milk and chocolate with espresso, topped with whip cream. A latte is just frothed milk and espresso, sometimes with flavoring."

"And that's different from a cappuccino how, exactly?" John's nose scrunched, and Dave would have commented if he wasn't busy rolling his eyes hard enough to get a headache from it.

Their first stop had been coffee, and apparently John hadn't ever ordered something that wasn't just plain black coffee, and not from Starbucks.

"Cappuccino is one third espresso,  one third steamed milk, and one third frothed milk."

"Okaaaaay, and a macchiato?"

"Traditional, or Starbucks?"

"Both?"

"Traditional is two or three shots of raw espresso, with two scoops of frothed milk on top. Pretty gross. Starbucks is just a latte with whip cream and flavoring."

"........ Okay, what's an americano then?"

"Jesus christ, John. Do you want sweet or not?"

"Well, yeah, I guess."

"Okay, and do you want it hot, iced or blended?"

"What is-"

"Ice is poured over ice, blended is blended up with ice."

"Ohhhhh. Okay, yeah, iced."

"Then get an iced mocha. Do you want dark, white or milk chocolate?"

"Which one is the best?"

"Personally? Milk. White's the sweetest though."

"White chocolate then. How much espresso is that?"

"It's enough, trust me."

When Dave stepped forward and ordered, the guy behind the counter greeted him by name, much to John's surprise. Giving both of their orders, the guy looked at John, then back at Dave,  before giving a wiggle of his eyebrows that the blond's roommate didn't understand. What surprised him further, though, is when Dave actually laughed, waving his hand. "Nah nah nah, that's just my best bro."

"Oh, you're John then?" When he was addressed, John's gaze fully settled on the barista, a tall and thin brunette with dark eyes and a big smile, "When he worked here, Dave said he was saving up to move in with you. That still true?"

"Well I'm here, aren't I?" John volleyed right back, giving a grin only to have the guy chuckle. Turning to Dave, John must have looked at caught off guard as he felt, "You worked here?" It made sense how much he knew about the drinks now, but since he'd moved there, John actually hadn't thought a bit about Dave working. The blond just seemed to have everything saved up and at the ready at all points, causing him to forget that his roommate had actually earned any of that.

"Yeah, but that was god, what, two years ago?" Turning back for confirmation, the barista nodded as Dave continued, "And I really sucked at talking to people."

That got another laugh, but also a nod of agreement as the guy behind the counter contributed, "He made great drinks, just not a great impression on the guests. Plus, you don't earn much here, and he bounced after a few months because he said he needed to save up more."

"I still visit though," Dave defended, "and I even buy coffee, so I contribute to the business."

"Just without the drink making," The guy agreed, nodding with a sarcastic frown and a click of the tongue.

"I'm lazy, fuck you," Dave snarked, handing off a twenty and giving a two finger salute, "Keep the change, Toby."

"Knew you were my favorite regular for a reason." Toby gave both of them a small wave as Dave led John to the pick up counter, with his roommate staring at him in awe.

"You have friends?" John asked.

"Wow, fuck you too?" Dave said immediately, raising his eyebrows and putting a hand on his chest sardonically.

"You know what I mean!" Nudging Dave a little, the ravenette bounced on his feet for a moment, "Besides me and the girls, I just always thought of you as kind of a recluse."

"I have friends," Dave promised, smiling just a touch, "It took me a long time to earn enough to live off of, so I went through a lot of jobs in the process. I'm pretty well loved, Egbert, consider yourself lucky that you nabbed me as your roommate."

That got a bitten off laugh of disbelief from John before he elbowed Dave, tipping his head. "Sooooo. You talked about me to them then?"

Dave's name got called out as two drinks were set up on the counter, causing the blond to push forward to get them. "Well yeah. Even if the masses are fawning over me, I'm gonna spew about the guy who was willing to  talk to me when I went through my irony phase at thirteen, my neckbeard, 'nice guys finish last' phase at fifteen, and still went, 'Yeah, I wanna live with that' in the end of it all." Passing John his drink, Dave clicked their paper and plastic cups together  before nodding at the door. "Ready for laser tag?"

Looking down at his drink for a moment, John grabbed a straw from the counter and peeled off the paper, feeling a weird amount of happiness at how open Dave was with their friendship. Growing up, his current roommate had always seemed like he wouldn't tell anybody they even talked, let alone were best friends. Hearing it out loud though, made him grin, taking a sip of the practical sugar and coffee combo before nodding, "Bring it."

The walk there from the coffee shop was just about eight minutes, Dave seeming to know the way far too well. Maybe he'd worked there too? John would have to remember to ask at some point. Also remember to ask where else he'd worked, because it couldn't have been more than a few places..... right?

When they got there, and got inside, Dave ironically chose to be on the blue team, so John got paired up with red. The stadium itself was bigger than most John had ever been to, but he simply chalked that up to Houston being a lot bigger than what he was used to. What made it funnier was the fact that most of the people on their teams were probably under sixteen, much to John's dismay and Dave's absolute delight.

Both became designated team leaders, and by the fifth round, each had an army of young teens at the ready to shoot down anything that moved to earn a high five from their captains who were spitting out positions and orders like they were playing Call of Duty.

Blue team was all about stealth, picking off enemies one by one without giving a sign of where they were, while Red team took a more 'roshambo' tactic, running into the middle and taking as many guys down with them as they could.

Round seven came, and three wins to the reds and three to the blues dubbed this as the official tie breaker. Most of the kids knocked each other out with dramatic cries of 'Not fair!' and admissions of 'good shot', before the two eldest were creeping around corners to find each other.

Dave got the jump on John in a sea of strobe lights and synthetic fog, but held up his gun in a symbol of peace Phillip Hamilton style.

John shot anyways and ended the game, getting bombarded by an incredibly happy crew, while the blue team patted their captains back to a job well done, and mad props for at least trying to be civil.

In the end of it all, John was soaked in sweat, surrounded by strangers and brandishing an overly heavy fake gun, and hadn't felt this goddamn happy in weeks while watching Dave give faux life advice to a group of kids, all of whom were nodding solemnly in the presence of their fallen leader.

By the time they broke away from the packs, who stayed behind to play another round, both of them agreed that food was a must have.

"We could have shown them that enemies can get along," Dave pointed out, grabbing the front collar of his shirt and pulling it back and forth to get air flow to overheated skin as they walked in sync down the street.

"And take away the chance to teach them to defend themselves? Hell no! Aren't you Mr. Ruthless?" John jibbed, grinning as he ran a hand through soaked, dark hair, "All about teaching me how to hold my own?"

"I sacrificed myself, you should have at least paused for dramatic effect." Rolling his eyes, Dave side stepped and shoved John into an indentations in the buildings they were walking next to, making a bell on the other side of the glass jingle as the pair of them stepped through.

Keeping John steady with a tug to the back of his shirt as they entered, Dave led the way to a table in the back, the restaurant around them drowning in the sunlight streaming in from outside. Sitting down with a heaved sigh, Dave's shoulders sank a little, before rolling with a crack. "Man, little kids have way too much energy on their hands."

"You say that like they're toddlers or something. They're just teenagers; we were those once too, you know." Feeling sweat begin to bead up under his eyes and near his nose, John still smiled as he wiped at his face, sitting back in his seat. They'd gone with a booth, the cool leather feeling like a godsent as it met the bespectacled ones back.

"Ugh, don't remind me. Those were dark times."

"Of school and talking to people on the internet?"

"You know it," Dave agreed, nodding as he leaned forward, resting his elbows against the table, "Hell of a difficult life."

"Were you working by that time?"

"Yeah. Started pretty early; I really wanted to get out of living with Bro." It came out with a laugh, but John knew better than to think that his friend was joking too much about the issue. "Plus, I had a good roommate on hold, so I was kinda digging for chips to cash in to earn him."

"Speaking of!" Looking a little sheepish, John sat up a little straighter, "I'm sorry."

This earned a furrowed brow, Dave looking at him behind his shades, "For?"

"For putting it off for longer."

Oh. Right. John still, to this day, thought that he was the reason they hadn't moved in with each other earlier. Starting to shake his head to sate John, his friend shook his head, "Really, Dave! I mean. How many different jobs did you take?"

"That's beside the point-"

"How many?"

"A few? What's with the third degree here man?" Frowning a touch, Dave watched John's eyebrows dip on the ends, giving him a sad expression.

"A lot. You took on a lot of jobs. And my sorry butt couldn't get more money together sooner! I kept you stuck with your brother." It was a sharp statement, but he continued anyways, "I'm just. I'm really sorry. You worked really hard, and I never thought how important it was for you."

Silence ensued for a good moment or two, Dave about to speak before another person joined into the conversation.

"Hey guys! Welcome to Ray's Diner, I'll be your server tonight." Giving a wide smile as both boys turned their heads to look up at her, well drawn eyebrows went aloft as she looked between them, her words stilted slightly, "What drinks could I get started for you tonight?"

"Water," Both of them said in tandem, Dave's tone a little more flat than John and cluing the poor girl in on the fact that the air was a little tense surrounding her only table, making her job a little tough and awkward.

"Two waters then?" Pressing her lips together and giving a quick nod and smile, she ignored asking 'anything else' and pointed behind herself with a bit of an apologetic expression, "Lemme go get those for you." Respectfully stepping away, her receding steps actually grabbed John's attention momentarily before the hand on his shoulder did, causing him to look at this roommate, who was currently gripping it solidly.

"Dude." Opening his mouth and having to close it again, Dave looked for the appropriate response to what John had actually just said, the implications of which were not lost on either of them (I.E. "Sorry I left you with your fairly abusive brother and didn't realize what a dick move that was until now"), before finally finding it. "I chose to stay with him during college for moneys sake. That was my bad, not yours."

"But-"

"No buts. That was my bad. But it's chill now, yeah? I've got a better house now anyways." This did get a small smile from John, before Dave patted his shoulder once, letting his hand drop. "Now, let's actually smile at our waitress when she brings back the water, because I'm pretty sure we both accidentally glared at her last time she came about."

"Good plan," John agreed, relaxing in his seat a little as he gave a nod. "You promised me really good french fries from here, by the way."

"This place won't disappoint."

-

"Okay, I've gotta say," The world around them was turning a darker hue as the two of them walked, the bell jingling over head as they finally left the diner after a good few hours. Their waitress, Zakiya, waved them goodbye, a now grateful grin gracing her face instead of the nervous one she'd worn when she'd returned with their drinks. After chatting with her a bit, they found out she was the only waitress on staff, making both guys feel a little guilty for the lack of better staffing around them and the surplus of tables that came in around six in the evening. When they left, Dave had written down a tip and she actually had to come back to double check that yeah, he'd meant the zero at the end, causing John to beam like an idiot when she asked to hug them. Now, as they stepped into the cooling Houston air, John was giving a bit of a stretch, continuing his statement, "they were some damn good fries."

"Right? I haven't been back there in a while, but they've always made great food." Putting his hands in his pocket, Dave inhaled deeply before sighing out the stale air, seemingly relaxed. "So, we've hit everything on my list besides my romantic evening plan to fully lock in your love of this city. You ready?"

Laughing with a shake of his head, John put on a dramatic and deep voice, "Of course, mi amor."

"Okay, wait- I know that you were doing the Spanish soap opera voice, but do you even speak Spanish?"

"Fine." Clearing his throat, John adopted the same, ridiculous tone, "Mochiron, watashi no ai."

"I just asked if you spoke Spanish, so you bust out Japanese in response?"

"I don't know 'Of course' in Spanish, so I thought it'd make more sense if I just used one language to say the same statement."

"So you don't speak Spanish?"

"I never said I could? You know, for trying to make me swoon at the thought of some romantic plan, you're doing a really crappy job by questioning what languages I say nice things in," John pointed out. He was about to continue when he felt a hand in his, which, in all actuality, shut him up real damn quick. Turning to look at Dave, he watched the blond glance at him out of the corner of his eye before pulling his arm, hard, and dragging him into a darkened alley, much to his dismay.

"Dave!" His name was barked out, the sound of cars on the streets they just left the safety of sounding too far off for comfort as John tightened his grip on Dave's hand, "What the fuck-"

"Shh." With his free hand, Dave reached up, having to go on his tippy toes to reach the ladder of a fire escape, which he managed to pull down before taking their joint hands and leading John's to the ladders edge. Letting go of his fingers, Dave nudged him a little. "Start climbing."

"This seems a little murder-y man."

A stinted laugh from the blond caused John to bite back a grin as he began the trek; the metal underhand felt a little slimy, maybe from unknown reasons but hopefully from the cold of the night as he held on tightly to the railing as he stepped up the stairs. The structure creaked and groaned underfoot, but Dave seemed to walk behind him with confidence. And, if he were being honest, should the thing give out, he and Dave could float down thanks to the wind powers that he was definitely allowed to use in a life saving situation (Jade would throw a fit, but would have to understand if it saved Dave from falling to his death).

Ten minutes of climbing, and another sweat starting to break out, John reached the top of the building with a slight wheeze, stepping onto the tarmac and feeling confusion pluck his face into a matching expression.

"Is this-?"

"Ignore it." Grabbing Egbert's forearm lightly, Dave walked him towards the edge of the building, to what looked to be a well worn spot on the discolored bordering stone, which was the molded edge of the rooftop they were currently standing on. Sitting down, Dave patted the stone next to him, taking his hand away from the spot as John slid to sit next to him. Unlike the Strider, John let his legs dangle over the edge, feet cutting through the air in swinging arcs as the sounds of the city below hit them.

"Wow."

The ravenette wanted to comment on a lot at that moment. On the fact that they'd snuck onto what appeared to be Dave's old roof (If the still present broken swords and odd staining on the air conditioner unit were any indication). On the fact that Dave was willingly sitting on the edge of a fourteen story building. On the fact that this spot had obviously been sat in a thousand times before, judging by the markings, so did Dave used to do this often when he'd lived here?

Instead, his eyes lit up as he looked over the cityscape in front of them, his mouth clicking shut. Hundreds of thousands, hell, probably millions, of lights twinkled at different intervals, skyscrapers shooting into the sky only to be consumed by dark clouds. Cars looking to be the size of ants as they crawled along the small lines of roads that seemed to only be diverted by buildings decorating the ground below.

The sight was actually more than incredible, as well as all consuming. No matter what direction he looked, he got something, though judging by the glance behind him, this was the best seat in the house.

John had flown over this city. He'd seen this sight before, and had been amazed by it then, but. A glance to the side and seeing Dave there with him made him feel a bit more mesmerized by the situation at hand. The coolness of the stone underhand, and the warmth of a busy day and good company made for John to sit back a little, eyes catching on every window that seemed to reflect the lights and life of the city breathing under them.

"So?"

"Hm?" The word had brought John's attention back to Dave again, who hadn't taken his eyes off of the scene in front of them.

"Houston isn't too bad, huh?" Finally turning to look at him, the silence caused him to second-guess himself before John's mouth curled into a relaxed smile, eyes rolling a little as he shrugged.

"I guess I can get used to it."

Letting out a sigh that he hadn't realized he'd been holding, Dave reached out and pushed John's shoulder, his own mouth pulled into an amused but genuinely happy smile, "See? So much better than Washington."

John wasn't about to leave. That thought alone made Dave feel more relaxed than he had in years, his eyes closing momentarily as a horn honked twice below, nearly getting drowned out by a soft sigh emitted from his friend.

It had been a good day.

Hopefully with more to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((!! Look how dumb they are, it makes me so happy. Thinkin shits gon b okay and normal and all that jazz. Anyways! Thank you so much for reading, if you see a mistake please point it out so I can fix it, but otherwise thank you so much for reading! I'll try to update the next chapter asap!))


	9. Doom and Gloom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((It is 5 in the morning and i dont even regret staying up this late to finish this chapter, welcome to my life))

"How was the date?"

The question had both boys talking immediately, but it still hung as an actual query as they stepped into the semi dark apartment.

It was past midnight at that moment, Rose halfway curled up in the couch with Skype pulled up, and Jade's cheery face grinning widely, her hand waving quickly enough to become a blur as she spoke words that only Rose could hear through the small earbuds she had in. She'd called the explorer about two hours before that, thinking John and Dave would be home sooner rather than later.

Much to her delight and slight surprise, she was wrong.

Reaching out, she unplugged her headphones, Jade's overly loud greeting being played halfway through its delivery, "-iss you guys so much! Apparently John's a little homesick too, huh?" Tipping her head, John's cousin gave a sympathetic look, only to get Dave to interrupt, leaning over the back of the couch so his face was now visible on camera.

"Nah, sorry Harley, but I converted him like a Jehovah's witness converts a guy with a cult fetish. We spent the entire day looking at how great Houston is, and now he never wants to leave. In fact, he told me in confidence that he doesn't even want to go back to Washington to visit."

"I never said that," A deadpan John pointed out, his forearms resting on the back of the couch while his hands folded neatly, mirroring Dave's more relaxed version of the stance.

"You didn't have to. Your eyes said it all when you looked at me on that rooftop, John, don't lie to me right now." His overly breathy tone at the end had the entire group of them cracking up a just a touch at how stupid some of the shit the Strider said was, with Dave himself managing to be the only one that kept any composure.

Adjusting her screen to get a better look at the picture her friends seemed to be posed in at the moment on her laptop, Jade stopped laughing only to scrunch her nose with a smile, "Aww, lame! Well, if my pseudo-brother doesn't wanna come back to visit, I may have to just go to Houston! Right now all of you are there together; its a pretty and really lonely sight."  
  
"I have now hung out with everyone besides you," Dave supplied for added misery, watching her give an over dramatic frown.  
  
"You're just saying that to make me sad."  
  
"Hey, _and_ it's the truth. Two birds, one stone."  
  
Blowing a raspberry, Jade flipped him off while the blond boy made a shitty heart with crooked fingers. "As much as I'd love to, I have a job here that I can't take a break from yet." The significance of the statement was for Rose and John, but Dave still nodded.  
  
"Don't want my favorite Washingtonian to lose her paycheck to see my mug in person," He agreed, watching John turn to him slowly out of the corner of his eye with his jaw hung in disbelief.  
  
" _Favorite_?" While it was said jokingly, John actually sounded a touch butthurt as he continued, "We live together! I don't win that contest?"  
  
"You're not a contestant. She's my favorite friend that lives in Washington. You're my favorite _Texan_." The clarification came in a tone that practically said 'isn't that obvious' in big fat letters, his hand patting John's shoulder as he glanced at him, winking behind his shades.  
  
Meanwhile, Jade wore the curled smile of a damn Cheshire, while Rose had expression to match. "That was either a great save or the cutest thing you've ever said, Dave."  
  
"Can't it be both?"

That earned John giving an exasperated sigh, but neither girl missed the fond expression he gave as he lamely hit Dave on the arm. "I'm gonna go lie down and ignore the fact that my best bro secretly hates me."  
  
"Sweet dreams," Dave dismissed, even going as far as to give a wave as John walked down the hall, towards his room.

"So, wait, when did they start flirting?" Jade asked when John was out of sight on her camera, Dave's head snapping to look at her as Rose shrugged a little.

"It was happening before I got here, so I'm unable to provide you with a completely accurate estimate."

"Whoa, hold up, John and I are-" Dave started, only to have lilac painted nails flick at him dismissively.

"Hush, Strider, I _was_ having a conversation with Jade before you and your beau interrupted."

"Nah nah nah, I can't hush, because you're not hushin' and are spreadin' rumors like fleas spread the Plague." The hint of an accent had Jade giggling, a shit eating grin gracing her features.

"Oh my god, he gets a southern accent when he gets defensive!" She pointed out, causing Dave to roll his eyes.

"I think he just hides the accent the rest of the time," Rose reasoned, the girl on screen nodding along with her.  
  
"I'm not bein' defensive."  
  
"Is that because there's nothing to defend, or because we're correct?" Rose posed the question while both girls waited expectantly for the answer.  
  
"Wow, would you look at that? It's 'time-to-shower-and-fuck-right-off' o'clock, lucky me." Sarcastically looking at an empty wrist, Dave gave a two finger salute, not bothering to look back up at them as he turned to walk down the hall, "Try not to stay up too late on either of your ends, aight? Me and my supposed new Texan boy-toy need our beauty rest," he tacked on satirically.

"So you admit it!"

"Harley, I swear to-" Inhaling through his nose, Dave gave a strained thumbs up before finding the resolve to continue walking, still not looking at the pair. At least before glancing back, catching Rose's gaze. She could practically see the cogs turning in his head, her pale eyebrows raising when he said, "Actually, you know what? This could be good," before walking out of sight.  
  
After a moment, Rose could hear John's indignant squawk of, "They're saying what?!" all the way from down the hall.  
  
At least, it was the most indignant he'd ever made before Rose heard Dave try to sooth him with, "Come on baby, we should be honest with them. When do we tell 'em we're running off to Venice to have a million pretty, black haired, red eyed babies?"

"Dave, shut the fuck up! We both know they'll latch onto this if you don't stop!"

"I'm gonna take a shower, wanna join?"

The slamming of the door left Rose laughing hard enough that she didn't hear both of the boys chuckling themselves, Jade watching her friend and feeling horribly out of the loop while asking, "What? What just happened? What were they saying?"

"Stupid Skype microphone," She mumbled, giving a sigh as she watched Rose literally tip over on the couch from giggling too much.

-

"He's acting normal again."

Dave said it while he was sipping at coffee mid afternoon, drinking the beverage in lieu of actually having to cook something. It had been nine days since they'd gone out on Dave's 'Keep John in Texas' plan, and Rose gave a hum of agreement as she flipped another page in her book, the living room silent as the TV played with muted sound.  
  
Things had been actually really great since that day. John seemed to be more relaxed, and Dave was able to actually hang out with him for a long period of time without John seeming sulky and odd in the middle of it. They spent entire days together with both of them seeming to be sated with one anothers company; John didn't get upset at the shit he saw on TV, and Dave didn't want to leave to find something he considered entertaining.  
  
It was nice. Really nice, actually.

"Is this his 'normal'?" She asked, which earned a shrug.

"This is how I expected him to act all those years, and it's not the moping mess he has been. So I really fuckin' hope so." Another sip, and Dave sighed through his nose.

A quick glance upwards, and lilac eyes went back to dragging over the lines of writing in front of her, dark lips quirking. "You don't seem too pleased by it."

"Oh nah, I'm pleased just fine," He promised, before pausing, "I told you him and I fight together, right?"

"What." It came out a little too flat, Rose's eyes immediately meeting Dave's only for him to damn near choke on his coffee at how fast her response was.

Swallowing his coffee too quickly and burning his throat a little, Dave waved a hand, "Train. Train together, not fight." The pacification was what Dave thought to be a helpful assurance, but now it just alerted Rose that a well trained idiot was teaching John how to injure someone, and after everything that had gone on with Knight, this was a _terrible_ sign. _  
_

"Train." She repeated the word sharply, watching him nod. "Why."

"Some dude bit the dust a few weeks back and it startled him. He wanted to make sure that he could defend himself, considering how big the crime scene is here. So, I've been teaching him, just in case he needed to use it. I'm not trying to make him some bara, blood thirsty monster, it's all for self defense." But, upon saying that, Dave's expression pinched a little, "But see that's the problem."

"What do you mean that's the problem?" She parroted.

"Well, I'm the person training him, right?"

"We've come to that conclusion, yes," Rose said, "Continue."

"He had a cut on his shoulder that I didn't give him." The words came out crisp and cold, Dave's expression falling blank before his brow cinched a touch.  
  
"... And you are sure you didn't do it?"

He shook his head, "I'd never hurt him, let alone cut him like that. It was something serious."

"Something that could have been an accident?" Rose asked, raising an eyebrow highly.

"Something that looked damn intentional," Dave countered, "He took his shirt off yesterday when we were on the roof strifing, and there was just this long ass line. Not deep, but I've seen the kind before, because I'm covered in 'em. It looked like it was caused by a blade, but I don't know how he got it. I asked him, and he laughed and said he slipped in the shower."

"Which you doubt."

"Highly." Clearing his throat, the blond male dropped his gaze for a moment, leaning in to talk to Rose quietly as if it'd make a difference. John wasn't even there, out buying himself new shoes and some sort of jacket , from what he'd vaguely explained before he'd left. Yet Dave still seemed a little paranoid, his expression grim, "Rose what if he's getting into dangerous shit?"

Even as he asked it, Rose had to force herself to laugh, rolling her eyes in what she hoped was a convincing manner. "Dangerous? John? Are we thinking of the same person?"

"Yeah, but he's actually not half bad at fighting. When he started, he seemed to even have some of the basics down. But now, with the acting weird and that cut-" His mouth set into a thin line, and for a moment Rose felt pity.

Just for a moment.

And then she lied to him, further keeping him out of the loop that was John's nightly adventures.

"He used to practice fighting with Jade." That wasn't fully untruthful, but there was a lot more that went to it, "I wouldn't be surprised if he got the basics down. But Dave, John has no reason to lie to you." Lie. "Maybe it's from the trauma of how you received your injuries," her voice lilted as Dave shifted uncomfortably, her expression turning a little more sympathetic, "But I think you're looking too much into it. He's not covered in sword marks from his guardian; he slipped in the shower and got, you even said it to be, a shallow cut. I doubt he's out fighting on the streets in the night." Lie.

"But how would we know? He could be sneaking out or something, fighting crime or helping it in the wee hours of the morning." Giving a deep chested sigh, Dave's gaze fell away from the blonde.

"I stay up late talking with John most nights." Lie. "I did it last night, even." Another lie. "He's just like you and me; He needs time to sleep. If he's not asleep after I head to your room to go to bed, he'd be spending his days sleeping. And yet, somehow, he doesn't even nap during the day. In fact, he wakes up earlier than you most mornings." Giving a small smile, Rose dogeared the page of her book she'd been on and closed the cover. "You've worked yourself into a stupor over this, and I'm telling you; It's John. The man is practically a grown puppy. Not only that, he's smart." Partial lie, in Rose's mind at the moment, "He wouldn't throw himself into dangerous situations he knows he can't handle," Lie, "and he definitely would not do something that was morally compromising."

Huffing out once through his nose in what seemed like amusement, Dave gave a small nod. "Yeah. I don't know, I guess the idea got into my head and kept  growing."

"Much like an oyster hyper-focusing on a grain of sand and turning it into a pearl?" The supply of a good comparison had Dave actually looking a little proud, picking his coffee back up.

Raising his mug in a silent salute, he clicked his tongue, "I knew I raised you right."

Earning himself a small laugh, Dave watched Rose un-mute the TV, her expression immediately pinching at the story playing.

"-more on the story at 5, the next vigilante on the scene of Houston made an appearance again last night. Having been last seen working with the assumed to be mercenary who was responsible for the deaths of Ava Mycron, Adam Tucker, and what is believed to be five other total murders in this city alone, it was unsure if he was  a voice for good, or leaning towards villainous ways. However, our hero in blue was willing to give an interview, last night, though it was short. Going by the name of 'Heir', he-"

"See? _That's_ a stupid person." Motioning at the screen, Rose raised both eyebrows, obviously annoyed, "The type of 'hero' to work with a mercenary is one with no self preservation. Do you honestly think John, of all people, would do something that monumentally idiotic? A job that could land him working with a killer? Or one that could end up with him being a _target_ of said killer?"

"When you put it that way, god I hope not." Looking at the screen, red eyes watched a vision in blue speak to the camera in front of him, distorting his voice in the stupid way he had the last time Dave heard him speak. Watching as the camera flicked back to the news anchor, Dave took another sip of coffee, tearing his gaze away from the screen, "Actually, I know he wouldn't. As much as I hate admitting it, I think you may, _may_ , be right on all this. All I know now is that I need to baby proof our bathroom so he doesn't injure himself more."

"Of course I'm right." Lie. "Do you think I'd miss the signs if John was dipping his toes in hero or mercenary work?"

Scoffing, Dave gave a shrug, "Fair. You don't miss anything."

Lie.

-

"John, if you're not more careful, I'll kill you myself." While the boy gave a chuckle, a glance over had him thinking Rose was completely genuine when she said that.

It was currently just past midnight, and John had been about to leave when Rose had slipped in, sitting down the desk chair that she used more than him at this point and told him about her conversation with Dave earlier that day.

Rolling his eyes, he opened his window without even bothering to look at the latch system, material covered eyes staying trained on his friend. "I played it off! You even said, you got him to relax about it."

"Exactly! _You_ didn't play it off, _I_ did. And now, thanks to your ever brilliant evasion tactics leaving you with a cut that nobody could miss, he has a panicked idea that you could  be some stupid hero or villain with a death wish."

"Whoa, he thinks I have the capacity to be a villain?" Holding up a flat palm for Rose to stop and focus on this, John sounded scandalized.

"No, he knows you're too good for that," She admitted, thought she did lift a hand to pinch at the bridge of her nose, "He also trusts you. Entirely. Which you are undeserving of at this point."

For a split second, John opened his mouth to argue, before shutting it again. She wasn't wrong. He lied to Dave daily, and it should be draining, but....

It just seemed so natural. Maybe he was more cut out for this life than he'd originally thought, or maybe, for some reason, he just didn't feel bad about lying to his best friend constantly.

"Fair."

"Then again, I'm not much better. So, I'm going to punish myself by staying here until you get back any time you go out on parole. I told him I stay up late talking to you, so I am at least going to pretend I do that. Maybe it will help me with the guilt," She joked, though she didn't appear too amused by her own joke, "Who knows, I may have to stop him from coming in one of these days and save your cover."

"Let's hope that isn't foreshadowing," John tried to supply, her mouth tugging up a bit in the corners and dropping again.

".... Why did you do the interview?"

"I don't really know?" The hero replied, blue shoulders lifting and dropping as he looked away, "I guess to shut down the rumors that I was working with Knight. Did you listen to it at all?"

"No, I was too busy pushing a driving point home to Dave that you are, most definitely, not a vigilante." The irony was not lost on either of them, Rose having the grace to hide her amused smile behind her hand while John didn't have to, his mask doing the job for him.

"It was simple. Told 'em my name, they asked about Knight, and I told them I didn't know anything about him! Hopefully that falls within the bounds of not talking to him. Like it was about him, yeah, but it should be helpful in the long run." Stepping into his windowsill, John sucked in another breath to continue, but was interrupted.

"Go on," She sighed, motioning to the window, "You've got a job to do, and you and I both know you obviously want to leave sooner rather than later."

"I'll try to keep it short. After stopping a robbery last night, I don't think I'll find anything all that interesting tonight," He offered up.

"Let's hope." Giving a small wave, Rose watched John returned it before he let himself fall out the window, scooping back up near immediately and leaving behind an empty sill and a dark room.

-

**Target: Dick Burr  
** Real Name: Richard Burr  
Wife: Widowed, Previously Anna Michaels-Burr  
Assets: Money, Cameras everywhere, Hand Pistol  
Alliance: Whatever Fills His Pockets Quickest  
Employer: The US Government 

****"A senator," Knight huffed, walking towards the incredibly clean apartment buildings that seemed to repel the dirt of Houston marvelously, "A fucking senator. 'Hey, you fucked up with the Mycron case, remember that? Here's a job for you that if you fuck up in any way, someone'll kill you, blah blah blah'."

He'd gotten the text when Rose had gotten up to make more coffee, after soothing him that John wasn't as irresponsible as Dave was and hadn't fallen into a line of work that could get himself killed at any moment.

If the blond were truthful with himself, he'd have to admit that he may have actually started following John or something just to make sure. But, Rose never did and never would lie to him; if she said he was with him most nights, then she was with him most nights. The two were close, and who knew, maybe John needed the psychiatry sessions. All he knew is that he trusted that she honestly didn't think he was in danger, and that's all that mattered.

The idea of John doing things like this made his chest ache, but luckily it was just that. An idea.

His focus came back into play as he heard a man speaking quietly, broad shoulders ducking away from a doorway and towards a black car parked outside one of the buildings. Bingo.

From the details he'd been given, though vague, Senator Burr had been been embezzling money from government funding going into revamping the lower income schools in Houston. Bad, sure, but not worth a hit on him. So, when Dave pushed for more, his informant (surprisingly cool dude for working for Noir, with a slight lisp, who gave no shits about spilling the beans) had broken, making the story a bit more three dimensional; the only person that had caught onto it had mysteriously disappeared the morning they were supposed to present it for grounds of impeachment. Their body was found in their apartment two days later, and the police said suicide, but the coroner didn't. Then, a day later, he claimed he was wrong, and that signs pointed to suicide.

So, killing someone, and bribing the police to shut their mouths?

It could get a few angry people on your back.

Turns out the guy he'd killed had been one of Noir's connections in the political circuit.

That would _definitely_ get you a few angry people on your back.

The building was tall; a good ten stories of just climbing, and Dave was already mourning the loss of tomorrow, because his thighs were gonna hurt like a wicked bitch.

The text had been simple.

**'1:12 AM, 69th and Adams. Rooftop. Richard Burr. Stop by office for further details.'**

He had just about a half hour of finding a way to climb a building that didn't have a ladder before Burr would go on a smoke break, and he could finish the job and go home. He and John should be playing Mortal Combat and eating microwaved burritos at that moment, but he was stuck doing this, still making up for Heir's fuck-up of Mycron's death and how bad it'd made him look.

Finding the harness system for the window washers that kept that massive building so squeaky clean had been the biggest stroke of luck Knight had gotten to date.

-

Heir saw it happen from above the next rooftop over.

When he caught the sight of movement on the windowed building on his far right, he'd considered ignoring it. A turn of his head brought attention to a blob of red, which seemed to be hoisting itself over the ledge.

Several things went through his head at once; _Knight. Oh god, he's about to do a hit. Holy shit, wait, he's actually right there, maybe I can try to tell him that I cleared things up with the tabloids. holy **fuck** he is definitely gonna kill a guy. Do I do something? Would he kill me if I did something? Is this something I should intervene on? Would I become a target if I go over there? Can I help his target? _

Much to his own dismay, he found himself still facing the scene, even drifting a bit closer, but not moving to actually _help._

He was already in Knight's bad book, thanks, and not tempted to move himself up on the list of possible hits. Plus.... As much as he hated to admit it, the people he went after did seem to be pretty fucked up. For moralities sake, he wanted to dive in, but this situation was convoluted already. He'd been warned by the merc himself that he'd get put on that hit list, and instead of his usual 'gungho' attitude when it came to stopping bad guys, all he could think about was how panicked Dave had been at the thought of him being in danger.

Rose had told him he'd actually seemed upset at the thought.

Suddenly all that guilt from lying all the time was catching up to him, making him tempted to go back home immediately and wake Dave up to watch an episode of House Hunters and pass out on the couch making fun of how much those shitty apartments cost.

The mental monologue ended incredibly quickly as he focused back on the mercenary, who was already in the middle of swinging a sword from his back in a sharp, sidelong arc towards an unsuspecting figure who appeared to be holding a cigarette.

"Oh my g-" John's stomach lurched as he watched the head of a man fall off and roll, and even if he was a good hundred feet away, the scene was damn gory.

The pair were standing right next to the ledge of the building, one headless and the reaching out, pressing one finger against the others shoulders. When Knight pushed, the body fell sideways and crumbled in a mass, and John desperately needed to vomit.

Nimble fingers grabbed a bunch of material on the targets night clothes to wipe the sword clean before the weapon was slid away. Heir took that as his cue to get the fuck out of there, but a loud bang had him turning back to the rooftop.

There was a man in a dark suit, looking to be some type of security, holding a large looking handgun and pointing it at Knight, who actually seemed to be caught off guard. The bang had been from the rooftop door swinging open, and now it only clicked quietly as it shut, the intensity of the staring contest lost on no one. The merc was still standing directly next to the ledge of the building, and a slight twitch towards his sword had the man shoot, the bullet causing him to stumble and fall directly off the ledge.

-

Why couldn't he be playing Mortal Kombat?

The bullet hit his left pec, and damn, even through Kevlar, the punch of that thing was positively _brutal_. Bad enough that Dave had made the horrible mistake of stumbling, and when he found himself free-falling through the open air, all the breath got sucked out of his lungs, keeping him from yelling.

So this was it, huh? Taken down by a shitty, $20 an hour rent-a-security guard and a single bullet that didn't even actually pierce his skin.

Three thoughts hit him, all seemingly at the same time;

1: He did totally deserve that.  
2: His friends were gonna find out what he did for a living.  
3: He really, really hoped John would forgive him.

The solid collide he felt wasn't his back meeting the ground, but a body slamming into his sideways, scooping him away from the ground and causing his hands to scramble, gripping frantically to anything solid.

Judging by how his vision was invade by one of the three primary colors, Dave could make a pretty solid assumption of what had just happened.

He'd never been so glad someone hadn't listened to him.

-

Knight was clinging to him like a drown cat who'd found refuge, and John damn near laughed if it wasn't so startling.

He hadn't even realized what he'd been doing until he'd actually caught the guy, who wasn't bleeding, thank god. The mercenary probably wore a bullet proof vest (duh, John), but that wouldn't have helped him at all from being crushed on impact with the street below.

It was only about fifteen seconds of flying, but by how badly Knight was shaking, John got struck with an incredibly depressing revelation. He was scared.

It sounded stupid, yeah, but. Knight felt scared. Just like he did sometimes, but- He was supposed to be a stone cold killer. And he was shaking like a leaf. Sure he'd nearly died, but still! He was human. He was freaked out, and scared, and if the movie Kick-Ass had taught him anything, the bullet to the chest even through a vest probably really hurt.

He felt honestly bad for him.

The ravenette found himself setting Knight down extra carefully when they reached a semi-empty area to land. It was the top floor of a parking garage, and no one seemed to be using it at the moment, which was good. It took a moment for Knight to actually let go of the mass of blue material, but he managed well enough, pulling away and forcing himself to stand.

The two of them looked at each other, neither daring to speak yet.

Knight didn't have much he could say. 'Hey, sorry I threatened to kill you, thanks for saving my life?'

Heir was in the same boat, with a stellar, 'I know you told me not to look for you at all, but I still found you and didn't leave like I should have, but I did end up helping you so we're good, right?'

Instead, neither of them said anything, and in two fits of genius, the mirrored each other and turned away.

Knight began walking, his knees shaking badly enough that it was actually a task, so he could try to get home before 3 AM.

Heir darted off, hands shaking from the fact that he hadn't been threatened, but hadn't been thanked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Okay, kinda regretting it, but I'm so pumped for the next few chapters, its gon b so worth it. Thank you guys so much for reading!))


	10. Blinding Rage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((this is really long and I hope I got emotional aspects right, because I can't say I'm good at writing them, lol))

A loud boom from the TV had John waking up around twenty minutes after he'd gotten into bed.

He'd been inside by just about 2:45 AM, and found Rose completely passed out on his bed. While it was funny, he really needed to use that ASAP after the night he'd had. The mental debate he'd been having since he'd left that stupid parking lot was a heavy one; find Knight again, or leave it be.

The pros were: If he found Knight, he could try to make peace. Hell, he'd saved his life! That had to count for something, right? If he were honest, John wasn't actually sure _why_ he wanted to be on good terms with the merc. He killed people for a living and was a total asshole, but the want was definitely there, and not something he could really ignore at this point.  
  
Besides that, being able to finally get to the bottom of 'am I really a target or not?' would be a nice change of pace.

The cons were: Knight could still kill him very, very easily.

Stripping down to boxers and slipping on an overworn tee shirt before taking out his contacts, John had flopped against his bed, giving a soft mumble.

His eyes fell closed as he wrapped up in his blanket, glad to be on solid ground for once.

It seemed more like he'd just blinked before the boom of an intro to some infomercial played, making his bloodshot eyes shoot open. "What the hell?"

With a groan, John groggily pushed himself to stand, tripping over the pair of pants he'd worn earlier that day that he'd left on the floor and having to fight to find the door handle in the darkness. When he finally pulled it open, he saw Rose, hair mussed and eyes squinted, leaning out of Dave's room and looking towards the main part of the apartment. When she caught sight of him, she raised an eyebrow, before he waved a hand. "I've got it," He mumbled, watching as she slipped back into the room without any argument much like he wished he could. But, he had to at least check that Dave had only rolled over on the remote or something. Judging by how the sound had been turned down, though, it was seeming more and more like a fat chance.

The smell of coffee stung his nose as he padded into the living room. Dave was sitting on the sofa, feet pulled up so he was sitting criss cross apple sauce, with a mug in hand and a blank expression. This usually wouldn't have been a big deal, but the more John looked, the more uncomfortable the sight was. Dave stayed emotionless sometimes, but he'd started to break the habit when he moved out of his brother's house. Seeing that dead stare at 4 AM in the middle of their own home had him worried.  
  
The TV was on and muted, blank red eyes watching a silent infomercial for the Shark vacuum cleaner.

"Dave?"

Silence.

"Dude?"  
  
His gaze didn't break, causing John to step next to him.

"Dave."

"Bro called." The blond's voice sounded a little scratchy as he lifted the mug, taking too big of a drink for that not to have hurt his throat.

"... Oh."

Swallowing, John went to sit down next to his friend, who didn't move an inch as he did so. Even when the cushion dipped, Dave seemed to manage to stay as still as a statue, his face just as cold.

He and Bro didn't have the best relationship. It was part of why John had felt so bad, taking longer to get to Houston and leaving Dave stuck with him for four long, extra years. Constant ridicule, forced awareness and random fights with no warning would cause some resentment.

It ended up causing a lot, from what the vigilante could tell.

"You haven't talked to him since you moved in?" John asked, noticing Dave's fingers didn't seem all too steady with that cup.

"Why the fuck would I?" It didn't come out malicious, just questioning, Dave taking another long drink and draining half an inch from his cup. "He only calls when he's drunk as fuck and nobody else will listen to the stupid shit he says. And even if I wanted to call him, which I don't, he wouldn't pick up. I spent twenty minutes listening to him dredging up old shit, and he wouldn't shut up.  It was stuff that I didn't need to know, too. He ended up passing out, thank God."

Added guilt to what he'd felt earlier in the night hit like a wave; if John had been in the apartment, he would have heard Dave talking. Would have been able to come out, distract him, maybe do a dumb magic trick just to make Dave smile while stuck on the phone. Who knows? Maybe he would have made the coffee for him, as a silent 'it'll be alright, just relax', and they could have laughed it off.  
  
Then again, he wouldn't have been able to save Knight.

Little did he know that Dave wouldn't have cared if his brother his called normally. Yeah, it was annoying, soothing a drunk asshole, but nothing too upsetting.  But this time was different.  


His brother had called him when he was nearly home, having already stripped enough material from Knight's outfit to pass as a normal person walking home from the bar, or a night out. The rogue material stayed bundled up under his arm, looking like a jacket he'd gotten too warm to wear, his blade hidden in the mass and held so it was against his body, not sticking out too obviously. Dave had to walk all the way from that stupid parking garage, and it took a good hour before he stopped shake like a leaf. The pain in his chest was a low and steady throb, and it had actually reminded him of the time he'd gotten hit into the corner of the AC unit on their old rooftop before his phone started vibrating.

A glance at the caller ID, and his eyes were rolling. Drunk dialing on a fucking Tuesday.  
  
He slid the green phone symbol, wanting to know what kind of greeting he'd get this time.

"Okay........ Real talk. Why the fuck does Bambi care so goddamn much?" Bro's drunken slur poured through the phone as Dave glanced around, making sure he was on the right track home as his eyes caught sight of the street signs. It looked like he was only about half an hour away from the apartment, so at first, he welcomed the chance to kill some time.

"To relate to all the kids out there with hella bad Mommy issues?" Dave supplied, hearing Bro snort on the end of the line.

Small talk, his brother actually getting Dave to bite back a laugh at one point when he busted out a full out conspiracy theorist comparison between the Homer's Odyssey and the birth of WalMart, and Dave was surprisingly thankful for the company before a sharp statement came out in a garbled mess. They'd been talking for a nearly a half hour, Bro sounding more and more out of it as they went, but apparently the lighthearted air switched like a breaker flipping, shutting down any of the good humor they had flowing.

"Ya know- you really don't seem like a killer." The sound of a liquid sloshing accompanying it had Dave freezing mid step, a man and woman walking past him giving him weird looks, probably from his expression.

"What?" Dave's voice stayed steadier than he'd thought it would, his grip tightening on his outfit that was all snug under his arm. "I'm not-"

"Look, little man. It takes one to know one." His stomach dropped as Bro continued, "I just can't believe it took me this long to see it. Not to mention, you never gave a hint that you were changin'. I'm actually pretty damn impressed that you pulled this off so well. I remember seein' those marks on you the last time we fought, and I just thought you'd just gotten a little scrappier, maybe  startin' fights like I did at your age. I've been thinkin' on it since you moved out, and who knows, maybe it's the vodka talkin' or me lookin' back at clips on YouTube from security cams, but that red dude tearin' up Houston's got the same sword I got you on your thirteenth birth-"

"Stop." His breathing was off kilter as he found himself walking faster instead of standing still, his hand gripping his phone a little too tight. He knew he should have gotten a new sword. That one was nice, a good gift, which was rare in the Strider household. It had been worn in well enough when Dave had started all of this, but he should have taken the time to switch to a different blade and not go with comfort. Not one _that_ recognizable. Had Bro gotten it customized? Oh god, how the fuck did he have _that_ good of eyes, there was no way.

"Nothing wrong with earnin' a livin'." His brother sounded dismissive, but his tone held a clear warning, "As long as you know what you're doin', that is."

Swallowing, Dave gave a short laugh, trying to shake off the dread filling him from the very bottom of his shoes, "Bro, you're drunk, you should-"

"My first hit was for five hundred. It was when I got you."

The words rang in his ear, taking Dave a good ten seconds to hear it. "Your first what?"

"Takes one to know one," He repeated, almost sounding amused if he didn't sound so blasted, "I never talked about it. A baby got dropped on my damn doorstep, lookin' just like me, and I panicked. Knew your weren't my kid, duh, but knowin' our shit parents, I could put two and two together. They knew I'd run off, and they were more irresponsible than me. Probably didn't realize that babies don't raise themselves and found where I was only to leave you." Another slosh from a bottle of vodka, and Bro was continuing, "Hardly had enough to support myself. Lived in a shitty one bedroom with a toilet on the wall, grabbed purses to make rent, 'n' lied about my age on the lease. Couldn't just drop you off on a church doorstep, not with eyes like that. You'd burn from the holy water they'd bathe you in." It was a solid joke, but humor wasn't the focus here as some of Bro's words pulled longer than others.

Sitting on the steps outside of his and John's apartment, Dave slid his free hand over his face after he'd set his outfit and sword on the steps next to him, hidden from view by his leg. Bro was drunk. Bro was shitfaced, actually, and wasn't saying anything that was true. This was all alcohol fucking up his words, maybe just him trying to freak Dave out a little. "Bro-"

"A man in some bullshit suit met me when I finished a fist fight. A guy had a watch that could feed us for a few months and it seemed like a good way to make a days pay. I was outta baby formula and your picky ass didn't want 2% as a substitute." A scoff at how ridiculous young Dave had been, and Bro was back in the story, "I'd flashstepped to catch up to him when I saw him duck into an alleyway for a phonecall and took the chance. I landed a punch that fucked up my hand, but it knocked the dude out. I was grabbing that stupid Rolex when he'd flopped over, and some fucker saw me. Lookin' back at it, I think he saw the whole thing and just sorta watched. I unhooked it and went to run, but he started clappin'." A pause gave him enough time to swallow another mouthful, leaving Dave on the edge of his seat. "He told me I was quick for a kid. I ended up cussin' at him like it's all I knew how to do, thinkin' he was gonna turn me in. But he stopped me, asked me if I wanted to work instead of steal. Told me I was 'a good candidate for it'. Didn't know that the fuck that meant until years later, but hey, a job's a job. Anything beat stealin' like a wannabe Aladdin who isn't good at singin'." The sound of something getting knocked over broke the monologue, but only for a moment, "Didn't realize I'd be killing people until I signed a contract. Ten years of work, no questions asked. Best I could get, since I was listed as a 'run away' kid, and I couldn't be away from you that long. Four times a month, two hours each, five hundred a head, and I'd get a raise the cleaner my work was. Until you turned ten, my ass belonged to Jack Noir."

It was really good that it was almost three AM on a Tuesday, because nobody was around on the barren street to witness Dave's world come crashing down in the biggest fit of realization to date. He didn't even have time to register why it looked like the world was blurring together before Bro cut in.

"He the one who hired you?" His slur was much, much worse, but he was somehow managing to stay focused, keeping on task with where this all was going while questioning his little brother.

A wobbly inhale, and Dave nodded, not even thinking about the fact that Bro definitely couldn't see him.

"You're noddin', I take it." A groan as he assumedly moved echoed through Bro's apartment, "Look. Who knows what I'll remember tomorrow, but I'll tell ya now; I trained you well. Once you and that blue dipshit got plastered on the news, I saw the footage from the rooftop cams and started to look into 'Knight'." Dave could practically hear the air quotations that his brother was definitely doing. "Good, clean work. All moves I taught you, too." Was that a hint of pride? "Y'know, I originally did that thinkin' you could defend y'rself, if Noir's men ever came after you when my contract ended. I never defected, or fucked up, so they didn't have any reason not to trust me. But I didn't want your head on a spit just because I wanted out." At this point, Bro could be heard stifling a yawn while Dave pulled the phone away, scrubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand to fix the water leaking from them. The phone met his ear when Bro was in the middle of a sentence, "-musta messed up. He got you anyways."

"I'm sorry." It was hard to get out, considering it felt like Dave's throat was closing up like an invisible wire was tying up his esophagus. This didn't excuse the literal years of torture that was growing up with Bro, but it brought a lot of shit to light. Mostly, it made Dave's skin crawl that he was so much like his brother without even trying. Down to killing for cash. Even down to the moves he used to do said killing.  
  
At least his shades were better.

"Never apologize," Bro responded, getting a little quieter as he set his phone down somewhere, "You come to me to get patched up, alright? If somethin' happens, I can't really say shit now can I? Not like I haven't done it all before." That was accompanied by a sighed, "you got that?"

"Yeah. Yeah I've got it." This was, by far, the most frank conversation Dave had ever had with his brother, and he absolutely loathed it. His voice shook as he assured, "If I've gotta problem, I'll ask you."

"Good." The phone clattered, before a slur of cuss words came from Bro as he tried to retrieve it. It took a minute, giving Dave a second to let this all start to sink in, before Bro's voice poured back through, "now I need to go piss enough to make a geyser jealous and crash for a good six years. You need me, you know where to find me."

He hung up, and Dave was starting to wish that Heir hadn't caught him.  
  
It was a blur, the trek upstairs. At least he remembered to be quiet while opening the door, because he had snuck out, hadn't he?

So John wouldn't find out that he fucking killed people for a living. So Rose wouldn't find out, either. So nobody would know.  
  
Except for Bro.

All of his mental focus went into not screaming, because years, _years,_ of hard work, of sneaking around like a rat, of hiding bruises, cuts and burns, of making sure that his friends and family stayed _out_ of his work just got shoved down the drain and he watched it happen.

His brother had done what he did. He was just like him. He needed money, and they targeted him as a desperate kid raising a baby.  
  
And Bro had spent all those years surprising him, fighting him, hurting him, to toughen him up. His guardian had honestly thought that Dave would turn out better than he did, that he'd need to defend himself from a mercenary someday.  
  
Was it a good thing or bad thing to follow in Bro's footsteps at this point?  
  
Suddenly Noir scouting him after a few shitty jobs made so much more sense.  
  
He recognized his work. Fuck, he probably saw Bro's techniques in everything Dave had pulled off, because that's what it was. A new vessel for the same moves, the moves that Bro apparently had pimped out for ten years to keep a roof over their heads.  
  
Funny that he was still in his shadows, even in the worst part of his life.

Trembling hands went about starting a pot of coffee, the blond suddenly not tired at all.

It was still scalding when he started drinking it, and just to have the distraction, he turned on the TV. It was absolutely blaring, but he didn't really care. Then the fact that Rose and John were still sleeping flashed in the back of his head, and he reached out and pressed 'mute', his shades meeting the endtable with a clatter as bloodshot eyes landed on the blinking screen. 

His debut on the news is what dragged Bro to looking into this in the first place.  
  
Fucking Heir.

"Dave?"

How long had they been able to use Bro against him? Since he started? Had _he_ been used as a vantage point when Bro was still in his contract?

"Dude?"  
  
They knew where Dave lived. They could use John and Rose, couldn't they? It'd be so easy to, considering that apparently Noir's people had known about him since he was still in diapers.

"Dave."

"Bro called." Dave said it without thinking, if only to stop the voice currently grating through his thoughts. It took a moment for it to register that it was John, but when it did, he didn't react. He couldn't make it seem like there was too much wrong, not now. Dave needed to stay composed.

"... Oh."  
  
John sat next to him.  
  
They talked, back and forth. John asked if he and Bro talked, and Dave dismissed it. He tried to chalk the conversation his brother and he had up to 'stuff he didn't need to know', but the more words left is mouth, the more garbled and choked they sounded.  
  
When he finally shut up, John seemed lost in thought, which was good. Dave lifted his mug to take a drink and dropped it, coffee spilling everywhere and John flinching horribly at the clatter and hot liquid.  
  
"Oh, shit." Leaning down to grab the cup, John started to speak. "Lemme- Dave?"  
  
Sucking in air to answer, Dave found the sound he made something that he'd never heard from himself before, feeling his shoulders shake as his lungs spasmed against his will. Both of his hands went into his hair, tightening into fists hard enough to pull the scalp up and away from his skull as he hung his head. The wobbling huff came out weak as he crumbled, sinking forward and letting his elbows hit his knees too hard.  
  
He was so stupid, how had he fallen into this?  
  
Why had he let himself become this?  
  
A hand on his shoulder didn't get shaken off, but did nothing to stop the overwhelming sense of helplessness that egged Dave on to start crying, _really_ crying, his entire torso shaking heavily as he felt his eyes brim over and start spilling. He hadn't cried since his first job. Wasn't he supposed to be above that now?  
  
Air seemed to be getting scarce as his lungs fought to get any in, his injury not helping the strain while the act of weeping was both horribly foreign and entirely unwelcome.  
  
The hand slid, wrapping around his shoulders, and the sobs turned to a choked sniveling as he tried to gather his bearings. Right, John was there. He needed to pull himself together, he couldn't fall apart like this. He couldn't _afford_ to fall apart like this.  
  
Years had been spent dealing with this by himself. Nobody was supposed to know he'd spent all this _time by himself_ -  
  
His shoulder went cold as John got up, causing panic to bloom in his chest because oh _god_ , John left because of this. Understandable, it was pretty damn embarrassing, but he still couldn't bring himself to stop. Instead, his hands slid over his eyes, wiping at the gathering liquid that seemed to pool faster and faster while his resolve to pull himself out of this broke. John had left, gone to his room, and it's not like he could stop now anyways. Maybe he thought he was giving Dave space, and the man himself honestly didn't know if that was the right choice or not. His body shook harder as a bit of a louder sob came out, sounding as if it had gotten ripped out of his throat. It felt so unnatural, which only caused the dread to get heavier. His voice broke a little as he hiccuped, his palms pressing against his eyes hard enough that stars burst against the darkness of his eyelids.  
  
He really needed to go apologize to John for this. He woke the dude up then started crying like he was on his death bed. Definitely a shitty way to wake up. Calming down was his first priority, but he couldn't even do that at the moment. He couldn't handle one simple task-  
  
The weight of a blanket met his shoulders, causing his head to pull up too quickly, the blond swaying a little from vertigo as he met the sight of John sitting down next to him and pulling the blanket up over his own shoulder as well. Reaching out, he wrapped his arms around Dave, pulling him into a tight hug without asking. Who should have asked for the contact, he wasn't sure, but Dave was too focused on being shocked over it.  
  
It took a moment of blinking and a furrowed brow for Dave to comprehend that John was trying to comfort him, which made everything so much _worse_. Nothing he'd ever done had merited comfort, and he definitely didn't deserve someone like John helping him. John was a good damn person, and an even better friend, which almost made Dave pull away.  
  
Almost.  
  
But he was selfish, and could embrace that flaw easier than the others. Sinking against John, his body wracked with a bout of anguished sobbing that was too loud for him to pass off as anything else.  
  
Dave Strider was having a complete breakdown, and he didn't even have the strength to begin to be ashamed at this point.  
  
"What did he say?" John tried to ask, only to get Dave to shake his head in response, pushing into the contact a little too hard and sending John falling back. His roommate seemed to catch himself in stride, not even stumbling as he leaned the pair of them back until they were laid on the couch the same way they had been last time they'd crashed there together.  
  
Only this time, when John thought on it, it wasn't him being a baby because some stranger had stopped talking to him and Dave was comforting him with gushers and a well timed, tired hug. This time, it was Dave seeming to completely shatter, and John was the one holding all the pieces, with his only offering being a blanket and open arms.  
  
Carefully, as if he were touching a startled animal, John rested his hand on Dave's back. He'd never seen his friend so much as frown, let alone cry. Let alone.... whatever this was classified as. "Shhh, hey." The words sounded small and far away, but Dave could feel John pull him closer against him, a chin resting on the top of his head as he sobbed like a kid with a scraped knee into John's collarbone. A careful hand painted an invisible arc on his back as John tried to soothe him.  
  
It took a good ten minutes until Dave stopped being completely wracked by his own crying, which judging from how hard he pulled in air and how wheezing his inhaling sounded, he was very unused to doing.  
  
During that ten minutes, John decided that he completely, one hundred percent hated Bro Strider. Whatever he said must have been damn heinous to get Dave so worked up, especially after how he'd raised him to be. Maybe it was just that; Dave had been taught to be cold and aloof, something that he was only breaking out of now that he didn't live with Bro anymore. Maybe everything he'd  been suppressing for all those years was finally hitting after all this time?  
  
Shaking his own head a little, John hummed in a mental negative. That probably wasn't it. Against his chest, Dave let out a shaky breath, still sounding stuffy and far from relaxed. Dragging his fingers a little more, John gave another hum, feeling the blond unclench so minutely he nearly missed it.  
  
Continuing to hum, he tried to think of what had been said that could make Dave go against everything he knew and cry in front of him. Something about their parents? Something about their raising? Something about him _now_?  
  
Whatever it was, John wasn't going to ask about it again. It was bad enough, seeing Dave like this once. He never wanted to see the sight repeat itself.  
  
Twenty full minutes of silence, and John had thought Dave had fallen asleep from how shallow his breathing had gotten. It wasn't until Dave shifted his legs that John realized he was still awake.  
  
"Yo Egbert?" His voice sounded thick and a bit tight,  but Dave spoke against John's shirt anyways, that moment being the one that John realized that he was gripping the material of his tee tightly.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"This never happened. The 'me crying' thing."  
  
Hearing that, John gave a small smile, hugging Dave a little tighter, "Pfft, whaaaaaat? You've never cried in your life, I don't even know what you're talking about."  
  
Giving a sharp exhale through his nose in what John hoped was amusement, he felt the blond lose the rest of the tension he was carrying, sinking against John almost completely. "Thanks, John." Dave let go of his shirt before wheedling his arms under John's torso, hugging him back.  
  
By the time Dave was snoring quietly against him after the stinted conversation lulled, John was starting to drift as well, his breathing syncing up with Dave's. Without thinking too much about it, John gave him a kiss to the top of the head, the same way he did with the stuffed rabbit he'd had since he was a kid, and closed his eyes.  
  
Nothing had happened.  
  
-  
  
Dave gave a groan as the light hit his eyes, turning to bury his face further in the cushion.  
  
"David."  
  
Hearing that, Dave ignored Rose, instead pulling his pillow closer and ignoring the fact that it wasn't a pillow, but a torso. Right now, he was tired, and the left side of his chest felt like it had caved in during the night. He didn't need to get up for shit, especially not for Rose using his name in a chiding tone.  
  
"David Strider, what happened?"  
  
That actually got him to open an eye, looking up at Rose standing next to the blinds that she'd opened. John was breathing steadily and softly, his exhales ruffling Dave's hair, the lack of tension in the body under him cuing Dave in on the fact that he was still completely passed out.  
  
Lucky bastard.  
  
"What are you talking about, Lalonde." It came out in a dead tone, Dave's voice sounding rough, but Rose didn't seem to notice.  
  
"Between the spilled coffee, broken cup, cuddling, and the fact that I heard crying last night? There are several subjects to chose from." Brow setting, she crossed her arms, glancing at John with a concerned expression, "Why was he crying?"  
  
Blinking twice, Dave's expression remained blank, but this time out of the practice of hiding emotion, the current one being surprise. "What?"  
  
"I didn't want to interrupt, but at one point it was hard to ignore from just how loud it got. If it hadn't have quieted down so quickly, I would have come out here to check on him. Why was John-"  
  
"Bad dream." John spoke in a sleep drenched voice and Dave flinched a little, looking up at him while Rose looked at Dave in surprise that the seemingly unmoving blond had actually jumped. "I had a bad dream, so I came out to talk to Dave when I heard he was awake."  
  
".... How often do the two of you fall asleep like this?"  
  
"Every time we do, an angel gets its wings, so we should be doing it constantly without being judged by our friend-slash-live in psychologist." Dave shrugged, feeling John shake from under him from silent laughter. It was an easy way to break the tension that had come about from the idea of John spending the night crying, causing Rose to roll her eyes and shake her head, glancing between the two of them.  
  
"You're going to need to rent a steam cleaner for the coffee stain," She excused, stepping and picking up the two big halves of the ceramic cup that Dave had dropped, while trying not to look as amused as she was as she walked into the kitchen.  
  
Dave moved to slide off of his roommate with a groan, then, realizing that there was no real reason to groan,  pretended to stretch. The action hurt like hell, but he couldn't have John asking 'what's wrong' and finding an injury. Especially after last night. So, instead, Dave raised his arms above his head while his back popped, looking at John and giving a nod, "Thanks for the quick thinking. "  
  
"What else are friends for?" The smile he flashed made something in Dave's chest twinge, and while he passed it of as pain from the bruising, he couldn't be entirely sure that was the truth.  
  
So, in response, he picked up John's blanket and draped it over his friend's face, listening to his roommate laugh from under the layers and causing the twinge to be a lot more evident.  
  
Shit, abort.  
  
He snagged his shades from the table and gave a yawn, slipping them on lazily. "Who wants me to order pizza?" Dave asked, and the resounding 'aye' from both parties in the house had him walking off to find his phone, which was still bundled up in the mass of clothes that he'd hidden in the hall closet. Thankfully, last night, he'd at least stripped down to a black shirt  and boxers, so he hadn't been wearing any of the recognizable pieces. Opening it up and seeing that 'distressed him' had let them just fall on the floor of it with his katana propped up in the back corner, Dave decided he really, really needed to find a better hiding place for his outfit.  
  
As he watched the opening of the hallway cautiously in case anyone was coming, Dave dug blindly through the pants he'd slipped off while memories of last night flashed vividly through his head. The biggest being, Heir saved his life, his brother used to do mercenary work, and he'd fallen asleep with John calming him down.  
  
When he finally found his phone, he pulled it out, feeling his stomach sink at the sight of one new message. There was no way they could give him another job, not after literally _just_ finishing one the night before. Tapping on it and putting in the code to unlock his phone, Dave's eyebrows raised in surprise at the message at hand.  
  
' **Woke up hung over, but I've still got the drunken memory of a damn elephant. I was serious. Call me if you need anything.** ' **  
**  
The text was the only one he had in his phone from his brother, the bubble looking lonely in the empty column.  
  
Swallowing, Dave stared at it for a good five seconds before swiping the tab away, going to google the number for Domino's.  
  
It was frustrating, knowing that Bro knew. But, somehow, it was actually also helpful? Bro had been through all the shit that Dave had/was going through, and not only that, he could offer advice. Not to mention it'd be much easier to patch up injuries on his back with someone else doing it, and not just by pressing a towel against it and laying on the floor like he usually did. Bro knew what he did and wasn't disgusted by him, either. It was kind of a plus, in a fucked up way.  
  
Maybe Heir getting him seen on TV had been sort of a good thing.  
  
Speaking of the fucker, Dave had to try to find him. He was prideful, yeah, but. The guy had done him a favor and saved his life and reputation. If Dave had died there-  
  
The thought made his nose scrunch up, his head shaking as he began to load up his clothes in a bundle to actually hide in the closet. He'd go out a few times and try to find him over the next few days. If he couldn't, he doubted it'd be long before they met up again. The vigilante seemed to make sure of that.

  
  
Meanwhile, Rose was starting a new pot of coffee, seeing as the last one had been sitting for hours and now was too strong to drink without a prayer beforehand, talking to John over her shoulder as Dave padded away. "I've been thinking about leaving soon."  
  
"What?" John asked, slipping the blanket off his head to revealed a large frown and fluffed hair as he looked over the back of the couch, "Why?"  
  
"Believe it or not, staying here while I have a job and girlfriend waiting for me at home is not necessarily how I imagined using my vacation time."  
  
"But it has been a good vacation, right?" John tried, getting a small smile from Rose as she gave a hum of agreement.  
  
"Yes. Seeing both you and Dave has been quite fun." With a glance over at where Dave had walked over to, Rose kept her eyes trained on the spot. "Among hearing about other things. Speaking of, how was your night?"  
  
Thinking on that for a moment, John went a little wide eyed as he scrambled to push himself with little to no grace over the back of the couch, walking into the kitchen to speak to Rose quietly. Rose seemed to be watching for Dave like a hawk, so John spoke softly, leaning over the counter so there wasn't a chance Dave could overhear. "I may have, kinda, somehow accidentally saved his life."  
  
" _What?_ " Rose hissed out, only to get interrupted.  
  
_"Yo, what do you guys want on your pizzas?"_ Dave called from the front hall, both of them starting at the loud question.  
  
"Pepperoni for me, mushroom for Rose," John supplied without missing a beat, Dave's voice falling back to a quiet and casual tone as he placed their order.  
  
"What do you mean you saved him?" She asked quickly and quietly, putting a hand to her forehead while looking honestly floored, "John, I want to leave, but you keep putting yourself in more danger every time you go out. At this point I'll have to move in downstairs to just keep an eye on you."  
  
"No, it was a good thing!" It was an empty assurance that got met with a glare, but John waved a hand, "I mean it, really! He got shot off a building, and I saved him. This is a good thing, Rose! If I helped him, maybe now he won't kill me the first chance he gets!"  
  
"Do you hear yourself?!" It came out as a groan as she rubbed her thumb and forefingers against her eyes, her brow furrowing. "Go call Jade."  
  
Going wide eyed, John shook his head, "Oh _hell_ no, I'm not able to get into a four hour argument right now."  
  
"You are absolutely right, John. The avoidance of an argument with your cousin is definitely worth the possibility of you dying, silly me for thinking otherwise."  
  
_"Do you guys want cheesy bread?"_  
  
"Yes please!" Rose offered up in a falsely casual tone, her voice going back to a practical whisper when she turned back to John, "John, I miss my girlfriend and my clients cannot adapt to a new psychologist for this long without having a problem of switching back to me. I promised Jade I'd stay here until I thought it was safe for you to work on your own, but so far you are proving the opposite! If you insist on pulling dangerous stunts for your mercenary friend, you need to tell someone that isn't me, and since you two refuse to tell Strider, that leaves Jade as the only other person you can talk to. I don't know if you realize how many times I've talked you out of doing something irresponsible when it came to him, but it has been too often for comfort."  
  
"I'll be fine without telling her!" He tried, doing pleading hands, "You're at least cool about it! She gets too angry, and with Dave teaching me how to fight, I'm starting to be able to hold my own, so _please_ , don't-"  
  
Rose pulled away and immediately went to pour a cup of coffee, leaving John with prayer hands and a tense expression while leaning on the counter. Dave rounded the corner and caught sight of his roommate, raising an eyebrow at it while pressing 'end' on his phone without looking. "What are you doing?"  
  
"Uh-" Shrugging, John shrugged, clearing his throat and turning his hands to point two fingers at the girl in their kitchen, "Asking Rose not to leave for New York early."  
  
"Whoa, you're already bouncin'?" Dave asked, walking over to sit next to John at the kitchen island.  
  
Pouring two extra cups as well, Rose turned around and set them down in front of each of the boys, "I was considering, yes. It has been a few weeks, after all. I'm actually just about to go call Kanaya to check in, and tell her the news." Turning back to grab her own mug, Rose started to go to Dave's room, only to glance back, "Also, remind John later tonight that he needs to call Jade. She wants to talk to him."  
  
"You got it cap," With a shitty two fingered salute, Dave took a sip of coffee, and with a little smile John seemed to notice that Dave's expression softened when drank it this time, unlike the shaky gulps he'd taken last night.  
  
Not that he was looking, or anything. One sip that burned his mouth later, and John was pushing himself to stand. "Hey, wanna play something while we wait for food?"  
  
His mouth twitched in a frown in thought, before the blond offered, "Mortal Kombat?"  
  
"... Why not?"  
  
"Oh hell yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Aww, poor Dave, he's always in Bro's footsteps. And lol Bro is a little misunderstood and John hates him now. Tough break. the next chapter is the fire chapter and i am excite))


	11. Keep Hope Alive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((lol im tired af oh man))

"You know that you cannot come home yet."

Kanaya's warm words cut like a knife as Rose flopped back on her bed, giving a soft groan of mental exhaustion as she closed her eyes.

The problem with dating a woman you find to brilliant is that when she says the obvious, it's comparable to a proverbial swat upside the head.

"I know, darling."

"Then why did you tell the boys that you were considering it?" A small thumping sound rang from Kanaya's end of the line, the sound of her sewing machine familiar and heartbreakingly far away for the blonde as she relished the quiet patter.

"I only told John, technically. He used it as a cover from Dave."

"Then why tell John?" Her tone was soothing; not an accusation, it's soul purpose being to calmly request an explanation.

Rose heaved a sigh.

"Because it's what I _want_."

A low hum of understanding came from her partner. "I would be lying if I told you that I was not a fan of the idea myself. I know you have been incredibly homesick, love, but you were the one insistent on staying until that fire happens-"

"I know." It came out as a quiet and sad agreement, the blondes stomach getting heavier and heavier. Who knew how long out that damn premonition was? She'd had it a few weeks ago.

Well, closer to ten days ago.

She hadn't even lasted in Houston for two weeks without getting homesick.

It'd happened on her second day with them; visions of fire, a boy in blue flying into the flames and a mercenary chasing after him waking her up with a heaving breath and a scrambling hand, going to call Kanaya.

It was always the visions that merited the late night phonecalls.

They'd started happening when she was much younger. A child, making her one of the 'lucky' ones to have a lifetime of 'powers', as most forums speaking of superheros or villains professed. She'd only ever started reading comics as a way of seeing if there was anything like what she'd experienced, but from what she'd seen, being able to dream situations and not know when they happened didn't quite classify as a useful power.

When she'd read about 'precognition', however, it made her think otherwise.

Her favorite character had ended up being a woman named Destiny, who could see the future on command and who would later be lovers with a shapeshifter named Mystique. While that had given her more than one clue about her own future, Rose had merely saw it as an interesting, but unrealistic character arc. Destiny, also known as Irene, had mastered her powers in a mere thirteen months, at the age thirteen as well. It seemed more like wishful thinking to the young blond than anything, though she was still younger than the character and grasped the idea better than Irene had in the series. The woman could force herself to have a vision, and not only that, know exactly when the event in question was going to take place. It was preposterous.

Rose's visions only came in dreams, and during the few years of trying, she couldn't manifest them in any other form. The reason for this was something that she didn't like to think or talk about; When she pressed too hard, or tried to see something with her eyes open and her mind and body awake, she saw...... They were impossible to describe to their full caliber. Hideous beings, loud, angry, and shrouded in darkness. Perhaps they were a coping mechanism created by her own mind, or maybe the deliverers of all omniscient information, but they were hardly suitable for a child, even one as rational as Rose. From the first point she saw them when she was nine years old, they'd end up in nightmares once in a while as well; sometimes with the pretenses of actually providing information, and other times with the mistake of trying to speak words that weren't words, but noises she'd never be able to decipher.

Very rarely did they tell her anything good, and were some of the best nightmare fuel a child could find without unlocking the parent filter on the computer. Once in a while, they delivered important information that made their presence almost necessary though, which caused a bit of a conflict when it came to having a dream about them. Was it a good thing or a bad thing when they visited? Not only that, how was she able to handle the metal strain of the idea of omniscient beings at such a young age without having a religious crisis?

It all was an interesting precursor to how she'd become so involved in the human mind, but her own precursor none the less. At the tender age of ten, she thought her mother would question why her daughter seemed to suddenly need vast amounts of comics that she only read certain pages of, or why she slept so long and so often. Perhaps she'd even wonder why Rose woke up with sudden and heinous dreams, but would never accept the comfort she tried to offer, or why she'd wake up speaking nonsense with a practiced tongue, as if it were an actual language.

Rose found herself incredibly grateful that she was never questioned on it. Looking back now, she gave a thoughtful hum; maybe her mother had known something she hadn't.

Always an interesting thought.

She had never actually told anyone about what she dreamed at that point. Once in a while, she'd see things that were awful, such as the death of a beloved pet, or a house fire that took away a small chunk of her childhood home, but there wasn't a single thing she could do to change it. She tried feeding him better food, making sure he was vaccinated, away from other cats so they wouldn't fight, yet he still passed away in the night from old age, just as foreseen. She started putting out candles, unplugging curling irons, double checking to make sure the oven was off, but it was the wiring that caused the plumes of smoke on the far end of their home in the end of it all.

Rose knew the situations, but not the causes and reasoning for them.

When it was other people, telling them _may_ affect the outcome, but she hadn't tested that theory. How could she, without outing herself? Not only that, what if it effected the situation for the worse?

The only person she'd ever told any of this to ended up being not her friends, but her first and only girlfriend to date.

She'd met Kanaya Maryam in her freshman year of college, her under a psychology major and Kanaya studying fashion design. Not that she needed to study, in the youngest Lalonde's opinion. She was already talented to an incredible caliber, and her artwork is what got them talking in the first place. It was displayed in a show that Rose had gotten tickets to, before she'd started chatting up a lovely young woman who seemed to be hovering in the same small section of designing art.

A dream that night about seeing their first kiss reminded the blonde of Destiny and Mystique, causing a sleepy smile before she fell back into a (thankfully) dreamless sleep.

That particular vision didn't happen for a few good months, but Rose took it wonderfully in stride, her grip on the woman's hand calm as Kanaya babbled and apologized in a way very much unlike her for kissing Rose 'so suddenly and without proper permission'. A second kiss hadn't been foreseen by any means, but it seemed to be called for, and Kanaya sank into the contact as Rose smiled just a touch.

The visions weren't always bad. Not always good, but judging by the fact of them moving in together during their Sophmore year after Rose had known the answer to her asking Kanaya would be 'yes', the blonde could say that they definitely had positives. Knowing these things, even objectively, was the kind of reassurance she'd gotten used to during her life. Anything less, the unknown, was nerve wracking and unwelcome.

At the age of nineteen, she saw a vision of two young people fighting. Not each other, but a grown adult, both of them working side by side to incapacitate him. How she knew they were young, she couldn't quite pinpoint, but in her head, she'd watched them take the man out and call the police, the female one patting the young man on the shoulder and leading him away. They'd run off while police sirens wailed, dodging into an alleyway with laughter and a rogue high five.

That action had stood out, the sleeping blonde's brow furrowing in both the dream and real life as she watched the strangers unmask themselves; Jade's smile was large while John gave a laugh, his hair looking a little matted and outfits the two of them were in being positively atrocious.

Waking with a jolt, her sleeping girlfriend just gave a tired hum as Rose took a moment to catch her breath. When an unsteady hand reached to wake her up, Kanaya's brow furrowed as she peered up at her roommate, who looked more than a little shaken.

"I have something I need to tell you about."

The risks had been large, and the outcome unknown, when she'd admitted to her girlfriend exactly what she'd been experiencing for the majority of her life. There had been no vision assuring her that Kanaya would believe her, or showing her that her girlfriend would think she'd gone insane and try to get her to see a psychiatrist. Rose was more than sure Kanaya would get annoyed, or confused and upset at what seemed like an incredibly intricate tall tale. She had no reason to lie to her, of course, and she never wanted to lie to her; Kanaya was one of the few people whom she loathed falsifying anything with.

Instead, her girlfriend surprised her with, "Have you tried asking John and Jade if they _are_ these two vigilantes?"

A small test, one that Rose was willing to take and ace. To prove that she actually had a premonition, not just a dream that she would be crazy to act on. And to prove that she was accurate on her dream, right down to the ugly outfits.

Grabbing her phone, she watched a delicate hand scrub at tired eyes as Kanaya propped herself up against the headboard, leaning on her shoulder to look at the screen as Rose messaged Jade. She only sent one message, and it caused Kanaya to actually give a hum in surprise at her blunt wording.

TT: So how long have you and John been acting as street cleaners in Washington? 

__A notification that Jade was typing popped up, before Rose's screen blew up in green._ _

GG: nooooooo!! how did you know? 

GG: was it the news reports? 

GG: i thought the outfits were inconspicuous!!!!! it was the green and blue huh? they are pretty bright. 

GG: oh man please dont tell anyone rose. D: 

GG: we're just trying to help, i swear! 

GG: i told john we needed to be more careful. how did you even figure it out???? 

Silence rang through their small apartment, before Kanaya paused. "What do their outfits look like?"

An amused google search and odd candid shots from local newspapers in Washington had Kanaya groaning, covering bloodshot eyes with one hand. "This is too much information and disappointment for a 3 AM venture. It looks like part of Jade's clothing is felt, good lord."

TT: Kanaya has offered up her sewing expertise, if you two are willing to improve your outfits. 

TT: And I have my ways. Are you two being careful?

From that point on, she acted as a confidant for John and Jade. They hadn't wanted to tell anyone, but through her own 'intuition', her and Kanaya had been the two people they could tell and trust.

But, luckily for Rose, she had her own person to contact the second a dream wormed its way into her sleep pattern. If anything went wrong, she'd call the woman whom she now owned a home and cat with, back in New York.

Speaking of.

"I miss you."

Rose smiled as she heard it, looking up at the ceiling of Dave's room and stretching a little. From here, she could smell that the boys had already gotten the pizza Dave had ordered and hadn't come in to grab her. Rude. "I miss you too." 

"But no matter how much I miss you, I would not want to wish any harm on John due to my inability to offer the sound advice until staying after this incident. And from what you have told me, this mercenary does not seem fond of him. The two of them being alone in a burning building together could be nothing less than catastrophic, which is why you should be there, if you need to change the situation by interfering."

__Right, Rose hadn't told her that yet. "Actually...."_ _

__"Actually?" Kanaya repeated, only sounding a little distracted._ _

__"John saved his life last night."_ _

__A pause happened in the rhythmic thumping, Kanaya's shoe clicking as it fell away from the pedal to her sewing machine, tone stunned, "Come again?"_ _

__"Oh I know. He was told to stay away from him and ended up stopping Knight from falling to his death from a rooftop. According to John he was shot, but judging by John's lack of suturing skills or bloodstains littering the apartment, he must have been wearing some form of bullet proof vesting."_ _

__"From the sound of it, I may need to move to Houston instead of you moving back to New York."_ _

__"Please don't even entertain such a terrible idea," Rose groaned, having to bite back a smile at the sound of her beloved laughing on the other end of the line. It was light and genuine, making the psychologist's chest ache a little. "I've missed that sound."_ _

__"That sound," Kanaya chuckled, "will still be right here when you get back, along with the rest of your live-in roommate."_ _

__Of course Rose knew that, but she had to admit, "The assurance is soothing. But live-in roommate? That terminology is a little juvenile, don't you think?"_ _

__"Live-in lover?"_ _

__"Now that just sounds like the name of an awful pop song. Perhaps even a snazzy number in the eighties, only found in dive bars and clubs in San Francisco."_ _

__"Your seamstress mistress?" Kanaya cooed, causing Rose to turn on her side to muffle her laughter. Of course she gave Rose a moment to catch her breath, before continuing, "Listen, darling. Stay with John, and keep an eye on him. Meanwhile, I must wait at home, practically restricted to solitary confinement, while my beau stays away from me in order to protect an incredibly irresponsible hero. Woe is truly me. If only I were able to talk to her at the touch of a button, or perhaps hear her voice by picking up a small device and dialing in some sort of code."_ _

__"It is a form of new age torture," Rose agreed sardonically, her amusement laced in her words, "In fact, this communication right now is actually telepathic. Phones are a thing of the past, practically barbaric. Your phone is not even actually on, it is all part of the illusion."_ _

__"Telepathy?" Kanaya tisked her tongue, "Your powers seem to get stronger the further away you are from me," She hummed, her sewing starting back up again._ _

__"Yes, well. I find it imperative not to test that theory any more than we already have."_ _

__"Agreed. Go on, spend some time with the boys, and send them my best. In the meantime, try not to worry about that fire, understood? But do me one favor, and keep yourself out of it. Nothing would be worse than having to retrieve your body from Houston. What if they even forced us to have the funeral down there?"_ _

__"I will never let myself die in a state that sells belt buckles in the shape of itself," The blonde promised, black lips curling in a smile, "You have my word."_ _

__"Wonderful." A beat of silence hit between them before the phone went off of speaker for Kanaya, her voice a bit clearer and much closer as she held the phone to her ear. "I love you."_ _

__"I love you too, dear." The sound of a kiss rang from either end before Rose was hanging up, letting the phone fall to the bed as she looked back up at her ceiling._ _

__Rose Lalonde had never tried changing or interfering with a vision._ _

__But at very least, she had someone she could talk to about it._ _

__-_ _

__"Why the fuck do I even talk to you?" Dave deadpanned, watching the jacket that he'd worn for years of mercenary work get a large hole ripped into it with a pair of sewing shears._ _

__"Because you ain't got anyone else to talk to," Bro pointed out, currently sitting next to his sewing machine. On his right, he had a mound of heavy duty, red and black fabric. It was actually pretty damn cool looking, but if his brother sewed it into some leotard or skin tight suit business, Dave was leaving and stopping at a fabric store on his way home._ _

__On his left, he had Dave's current attire, the thing he'd been fixing up for years, with every piece almost entirely ripped to shreds._ _

__After spending a day relaxing with John and Rose, playing video games and being assured that John wasn't about to spill the secret of his breakdown to anyone, Dave had thought that maybe, maybe, he should try paying his brother a visit._ _

__When he'd told John about it the next morning, he was surprised and almost a little happy to see that he wasn't a fan of the idea. He didn't bring up the fact that Dave had been crying into his chest over his sibling just a few nights before, but he just kept on asking Dave if he was 'Really sure you want to see him? Like is he even worth the visit?"_ _

__The blond found himself oddly thankful that his friend seemed to be looking out for him, so he took a moment to assure John that it was alright, that he'd be fine, and that he'd call if there was a problem._ _

__A rogue text to tell Bro that he was on his way when he was putting on his shoes, and immediately, he'd gotten an annoying response of **'Bring your dress up clothes. They look like shit on camera and I wanna see if they're that bad in real life.'**._ _

__What a douche._ _

__Stuffing the outfit into a bag and hoping that John or Rose didn't ask questions, Dave had started the trek, getting to Bro's place in just about half an hour._ _

__Within a good five minutes of looking at the ensemble that his little brother had laid out on his kitchen table, Bro had grabbed Dave's well loved pants from the pile and ripped them clean through the middle, ignoring the youngest Strider's pained protests._ _

__Having to bite back a sad whine at Bro scrapping the majority of his mask besides the vocal transmitter that distorted his voice, Dave looked away from the material carnage, "I could talk to my friends about this."_ _

__"Eh, you could tell 'em." Another ripping sound, and a pause, "They'd probably turn you into the police, and stop talkin' to you, and hate you forever, but you _could_ technically tell 'em."_ _

__"How did you do it?" Turning to look at his brother, Dave watched Bro start to cut a piece out of the red and black material, brow furrowed in concentration. When he'd started wrecking Dave's outfit, he'd pushed his shades into his hair, the spiked plastic now sitting there comfortably, "Go for all those years without telling anyone?"_ _

__"I did tell people," He pointed out, not looking up from his work for even a moment, "Just not you."_ _

__"Really?" That was..... Damn, pretty surprising, actually. "Who?"_ _

__"An old sharpshooter that I worked with. When I fell outta the job, I fell outta contact with him. Probably for the best, too."_ _

__"Why's that?"_ _

__"People in this business die at the drop of a hat." Taking a piece of the cut material, he lined it up with a swatch of black, putting them under the needle and dropping the machine's foot on them to pin them, "It's a bad idea, makin' friends out there."_ _

__"So what, you told this one random dude that you were a merc? Couldn't he kinda gather that, by you two working together?"_ _

__"He knew who I was outside of work." His eyes narrowed a little as he seemed to hyperfocus on the task at hand, which was clothing his little brother in something that didn't look like an eighteen year old made it. Which, in Dave's defense, he had been around that age when he'd first built the outfit, but still, he could do better now that he was an adult. "We were kind of a thing. A good duo in and out of the ugly costumes."_ _

__Oh. "Oh." Shifting on the couch, Dave gave a small frown, "And you just stopped talking to him?"_ _

__"Yup."_ _

__"Why?"_ _

__"I was out of the job and raising a kid, I didn't have time for the whole 'keeping in contact' shtick." Glancing up, Bro raised a dark blond eyebrow, amber eyes looking at his younger brother while pausing his work, "What?"_ _

__Dave scoffed, crossing his arms as he looked at him, "You were out of the game. You didn't think to keep something around that was actually good? Like you could have kept up with this guy if it made you happy, but you just dropped it for no reason?"_ _

__The tenuous questions had Bro leaning back from the sewing, his eyes narrowing at his younger sibling as his voice dragged out the question, "Who is it?"_ _

__"Who's what?" Dave asked, watching his brother roll his eyes._ _

__"Who's making you think with the wrong head?" Dropping the cloth to the table, Bro flicked a hand, "Dave, you're a _merc_. Your job is to kill people for fuckin' money. That kinda life ain't got the place for romance, don't start thinkin' any differently."_ _

__"Oh my god, I'm not about to run off into the sunset and leave my job so I get tracked down and lovingly slaughtered in my sleep, I'm not stupid. I'm just saying-"_ _

__"Don't. Don't just say anything, aight? Look, I've ran this path, and I ran it a lot longer than you have. Until you get out of this business, put any hope of datin' out of your head, period."_ _

__"I couldn't date if I want to, not with this whole mess with Heir hanging over my head. I was jus-"_ _

__"You're not gettin' a crush on this Heir kid, are you?" Bro asked, sounding a little more serious._ _

__"Christ, no," Dave assured honestly._ _

__"Because if you two are a thing I will come out of retirement just to scare him. I will drop that little fucker if he lays a hand on you considerin' all the shit he's screwed up already."_ _

__"Holy fuck, Bro, I'm not interested in him like that. He doesn't seem like a bad dude but-"_ _

__"But you're not sweet on him?" Bro finished._ _

__"No! Fuck, I'm not interested in-"_ _

__The elder pushed, "Who is it then?"_ _

__"No one!" Now the younger Strider was just sounding indignant, throwing his hands up a little as he stood up, "Why would there be anyone?"_ _

__"Because you brought up romance, muchacho. You think I'm stupid enough not to see when you're thinkin' about someone? Why does it matter, you want to have a clean little thing on the side while you kill people for a living?"_ _

__"No-" Dave started, but again, Bro cut him off._ _

__"Have a nice lovin' family while you slaughter people in the middle of the night?"_ _

__"Bro, I never-"_ _

__The elder shrugged, "Because you know that with your job, you don't-"_ _

__"I don't deserve being in a relationship with him."_ _

__Dave said it sharply, before realized that Bro's tactic of rapid fire questioning and interruptions had actually gotten a semblance of an answer out of him._ _

__"...... Now we're getting somewhere." Sitting up a bit straighter, Bro rested his forearms on the table in front of him, looking at his brother, "Look, your job doesn't dictate your worth. It's a shitty business that someone's gotta do. But if you like him? Don't put a hand on him. Whatever you two got, cut it off, now, because somethin'll be happenin' to you and your mind won't be on fixin' it, it'll be on him."_ _

__Dave's mind wandered to his thought process when he was falling off the roof, but he gave a nod, breaking eye contact, "Yeah. Yeah, you're not wrong."_ _

__"Of course I'm not wrong, I'm a goddamn genius." Going back to sewing, Bro didn't even bother looking up at this point, his attention going back to Dave's outfit, "When you get out of your contract, drop to your knees for all I care, but until then I'm strongly reccomendin' against it. Not to mention, he'll get a big ol' target on his back from good old Jack."_ _

__Sitting back down on the arm of the couch, Dave nearly winced at that idea, "..... What makes you say that?"_ _

__Pausing his stitch, Bro shifted the material, seeming to be starting on a new part of the mask, "Let's just chalk it up to experience. If they think you're gonna get distracted by something, be even something like a relationship, they'll let you know what'll happen if you don't stay focused."_ _

__"Did something happen to Sharpshooter?" Dave questioned, because fuck it, any trace of secrets they'd had until this point was out the window anyways. He may find out what Bro was being vaguely cryptic about._ _

__Sighing, he flipped Dave off while pushing the material along with one hand, "no, but they told me if I kept talkin' to him, somethin' would. He was a good dude, didn't deserve to die on my dime because I got selfish."_ _

__The conversation fell dry as that rang a bell in Dave's head, driving him to silence as Bro's machine thumped loudly at the kitchen table._ _

__-_ _

__Five. Days._ _

__Five days of Bro working on his suit, and Dave honestly felt like he was going insane. What could take one man so long? Nothing was as strenuous as not having his suit if he needed it, which he never knew when they would. With Rose and John, he went to the movies, made new types of dinners, tried shitty video games, and it was a blast. But the underlying stress of not having his suit on hand was going to be the death of him._ _

__Not only that, he needed to go find Heir immediately. He needed go get out there, find Heir, and say......_ _

__Okay, maybe he hadn't though that far into the future, but you couldn't really blame him. Every time he tried to think about how to handle that situation, his mind went haywire all over again._ _

__Did he tell him to leave? Thank him? Tell him to get a new damn outfit and skip town?_ _

__Kill him?_ _

__Pft, fuck no._ _

__"Are you coming with?" Rose asked, touching Dave's shoulder to grab his attention as she walked past. She'd been she was leaving soon, so this may be one of Dave's last times to go out with her for dinner. Then again, she had been saying this for days, so the meaning sunk in less and less every time._ _

__But, as much as he loved his friend, he needed to fix this problem before it got to the higher-ups in Noir's business, "Nah, I'm good. Not real hungry as it is. Where you guys going?"_ _

__"Apparently some place fancy," John answered from down the hall, walking towards the pair of them. Dave was sitting on the couch and Rose was standing behind him, waiting for her dinner date, both blond's turning to look at him as he entered the room. The shirt he wore matched the color of his eyes well enough to make them almost too vivid, which Dave immediately rolled his eyes at._ _

__"Okay, hold up Pete Evans, you trying to blind people with the color pop?" Dave motioned an open hand at him as John looked at him in confusion, "What's with the blue? Trying to turn into Cyclops and make your eyes bright enough to be lasers? Are you Captain Cerulean now?"_ _

__"He's attempting to compliment you. I think he may be learning." Bouncing her eyebrows with faux surprise, Rose walked over to John, linking arms with him as she led him to the front door._ _

__That did get a laugh out of him, getting him to look at Dave as he was tugged past, "Thanks for being so nice about my outfit choices! We'll be back later, are you sure you don't wanna come with?"_ _

__"Yeah, I'm sure. I may go visit Bro, grab some toilet paper since we're almost out, get a movie from Redbox. I'm practically swamped."_ _

__Rose waited for it patiently upon hearing the mention of his brother, and was rewarded with John's expression pinching, tone going flat, "Again? Didn't you visit him last week?"_ _

__"Yeah," Dave said, "But I thought 'Why not be a good sibling' and visit him twice in the same week. Shocking, I know, take a second to let it sink in that I'm not the worst person ever."_ _

__"Yeah, you're not the worst person," He mumbled, causing Rose to raise both eyebrows in surprise as Dave had to turn away to hide his smile. He'd gotten oddly protective over Dave whenever he mentioned his brother, and apparently Rose had picked up on it too._ _

__"Something you would like to share with the class, John?" She queried, causing him to perk up again._ _

__"Nah! It's nothing! Come on, we have reservations at seven, we've gotta go." Looking back at Dave, John gave a distinctly worried look, only to have Dave nod, a silent 'it'll be fine'._ _

__When he continued to look at him with that damn expression, Dave gave a soft laugh, leaning over the back of the couch to give a thumbs up. "I'll text you if anything goes down, okay?"_ _

__"Okay. Promise?"_ _

__"Yeah, dude, I promise," He flicked his wrists, "Leave my humble abode, get out, have a fancy date on the town. Have him back by midnight."_ _

__"You have my word, sir," Rose assured with a wink, closing the door behind them as Dave slid back to sitting on the couch._ _

__-_ _

__"And this'll hold up?" Dave asked, pulling on the stitching as Bro didn't so much as flinch at the harsh treatment to his most recent project._ _

__"Better than the shit you were wearin' before," He countered, watching Dave mess with the new mask a little. Thankfully, his brother had copied the old design, keeping it original but with better material. Looking up and staring at Bro for a moment, Dave jerked the mask suddenly, none of the stitches popping._ _

__"... It's a little impressive." Slipping the mask on, Dave noted that the material on his eyes was easy to see through, much more so than his old mask. When he spoke, his voice sounded like it always did on the job, a bizarre thing to hear outside of work, "Where did you get the eye covers?"_ _

__"Etsy," Bro shrugged, his stance cuing Dave in on the fact that he was definitely lying through his teeth, "Teenage girls are inventive with the shit they make nowadays."_ _

__"Did you get least get a good deal on shipping?"_ _

__"Eh, $4.99."_ _

__"Not bad," The low voice hummed, Dave trying on the gloves. Damn it, as much as he hated giving his brother props for absolutely anything, the suit fit well, and looked a hell of a lot better than it had before. Not only that, it was probably safer. "You reused my Kevlar, right? That shit's a lifesaver."_ _

__"All made into the chest, arms and legs. Puts some weight on it, but it ain't nothin' you can't handle." Leaning against the opening of the hallway in his apartment, Bro's mouth set in a thin line, "You goin' out huntin' for Heir tonight?"_ _

__"Yeah," Dave sighed, grabbing the back of his mask and slipping it off._ _

__"What're you gonna say?"_ _

__"...... I'll know when I find him, I guess." Shrugging, the younger Strider grabbed the clothing Bro had folded up for him on the table, heading for the bathroom, "For now, I'm gonna go put on an outfit that's rad enough to put Black Panther to shame."_ _

__"Be careful, don't fall over with the weight of that ego you're carryin' on your shoulders," Bro called behind himself, knowing that his sibling was most likely flipping him off as he went. "And if you're gonna leave, use the window, fire escape or roof. I don't need rumor goin' around that I'm housin' criminals."_ _

__"You are a criminal," Dave called from the closed door of the bathroom, the sound of something getting knocked over reverberating through the apartment._ _

__Scrubbing at his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, Bro sighed, "Wanna say that louder? I don't think the police station down the fuckin' block heard you."_ _

__"You know, I would, but-" Dave's voice shifted as his mask slipped on, "I don't know what yelling does to this recorder."_ _

__"Thank Christ." Turning his head a fraction of an inch to keep calling down the hall, Bro questioned, "How's it fittin'?"_ _

__"Like a glove," Dave assured, "Pretty easy to put on. You know you could make an easier living out of this than with shitty puppets, right?"_ _

__"The shitty puppets serve their own purpose," Bro promised, mouth ticking in a bit of a smile, "but I wasn't raised to be a fashion designer."_ _

__"Not fashion, per say. Your suit probably looked like shit. Was your suit orange? I bet it was." Opening the door to the bathroom, the merc stood there with a leather band in hand, trying to strap it to the cloth the same way that he used to. The holster for his katana no longer worked, causing him to need to silently ask for help as he held up the strip._ _

__Walking over, Bro snagged it up and turned him around, beginning to work, "Mine looked better than yours. I was a hit with most people, and the people who didn't like it were because they were my hit."_ _

__"Wow, I'm so jealous," He said in the flattest tone possible, Bro jerking the strap a little harder than necessary as Dave smiled behind his mask. After a moment, Dave paused, tone turning amused, "By the way, did I tell you John hates you?"_ _

__"Whoa, hold up, Egbert? Your nerdy roommate that I've never said a damn word to?" Sliding the strap through the buckle, Bro frowned, "What'd I do?"_ _

__"I got outta my head-space when you drunk-dialed me, acted weird," He explained shortly, "And since then, any time I mention you he looks like a Rottweiler put on high alert." Dave couldn't help but grin wider, grateful for the cloth shrouding the action, "I'd correct him if I could be honest. Or if it wasn't so amusing. You know he told me to text if anything goes wrong with you tonight?" Motioning at himself once in his full gear, he huffed a laugh, "Me. Call him. In case of a problem. Like look at me, then think of that."_ _

__"Well, our conversation the other day makes a lot more sense now," Bro snarked, shaking his head, "But fine, let him hate me for your own benefit. When he won't pick up my calls if you bite the dust, though, that's on you." Reaching over to the back of the couch, he grabbed Dave's sword, something that hadn't changed, and slid it into the sheath, before patting his shoulder heavily, "You're all set. Go out and find Little Boy Blue before he blows his loud ass horn and gets your ass caught."_ _

__"Or gets himself caught," Dave pointed out, turning around. "Thanks for pimping my ride, Xzibit."_ _

__"Yeah man, I added Kevlar to your Kevlar so you won't get yourself fuckin' shot." The stupid quote disintegrated and died as Bro lifted his hand, sliding it to the back of Dave's head and yanking him forward so he stumbled towards the fire escape with a laugh. "Now get outta my house, you've got a job to do and I need to clean up all the fuckin' scraps left over from your makeover."_ _

__-_ _

__It was luck more than anything that Knight even saw the fire in the distance. After ditching his brother's place for a stroll in the new garb he was sporting, he actually hadn't thought he'd really find Heir. When he saw the building, though, he'd started to head towards it, already able to hear the crowd of people around it clamoring from a block away. Knight stayed in the shadows, squinting at the gaggle of people and spotting an overly familiar crop of blonde hair near the front of the horde._ _

__But the second he saw a figure in blue shoot over the group and into the damn building, he more than realized exactly what he would do when he talked to him. Probably slap him upside the head for constantly endangering himself it seemed, but Knight..... wanted to help him. He couldn't define why, but seeing him shoot into those flames made him groan at the fact that now _he_ was gonna have to go into those flames, because from what he could tell, Heir didn't really care about his own safety. Or think before he did something really stupid._ _

__He forgot to ask Bro if the new material was flame retardant. Damn it._ _

__In an instant, he was pushing through people and right past Rose, who surprisingly stopped him. If he were standing next to her as Dave and not Knight, he probably would have grabbed her shoulders to shake her and ask her what the fuck she was thinking. This girl was standing in front of someone that she had to know was dangerous, judging by her greeting of choice being, "Don't hurt anybody." But there she was, evening outfit and heels on while stepping in his path and stopping him from potentially saving some idiots life._ _

__When he grabbed her arms, she flinched, and it made Dave's stomach twist just a bit as he carefully stepped her back._ _

__"Stay," He ordered, keeping his hands on her arms. Her and John must have been on their way back from dinner, and the goober wasn't anywhere in sight. Probably calling the police off to the side while Rose tried to get a closer look, "I'm helping."_ _

__"W-" Dark eyelashes batted thrice, and he wanted to point out that she had ash on her face, or that she didn't need to look that confused. Instead, he focused on the question she asked, which was, "Why?"_ _

__"The blue kid." Huffing out a sigh, Dave said the first thing that came to mind, "He's very stupid."_ _

__"You're after him?" Curiosity rang through her words as her expression became surprised, but Knight had to shake his head. He lied to her enough in a day as it was._ _

__"Helping him." Letting go of her, he turned back to the growing flames that Heir had just shot into._ _

__"Hey-" She started, the click of her heel forcing him to turn around again and carefully press her another step back._ _

__God he wished he could convey the words 'fucking stay' with a look, but he could only do that sans mask and sans shades. So, instead, he had to succumb to a quiet, "Stay," hoping that for once, Rose actually listened to him._ _

__A few careful steps back, before he turned, following into the fire._ _

__The first thought to register was that it was really fucking hot. Genius, of course, but Dave was really thankful that the material breathed well, otherwise he would have had to duck out before he took a full step in. The ground underfoot was painfully hot, seeping into the bottoms of his shoes and making him constantly be stepping up as he went through the building._ _

__The first floor seemed abandoned, and judging by the illuminated inferno through anything but near the fire escapes, he was assuming that nobody else was in it. Another floor up, and the same thing, forcing him to go up to the third._ _

__When he got there, he heard the frantic patter of several feet, causing him to slow a little. Turning the corner, he was met with the sight of a family of five, holding hands with rags and shirts covering their mouths. They looked at him like startled wild animals, the parents making eye contact even through the material of the mask._ _

__A pause, before he motioned for them to follow, the kids seeming to move faster than the adults as they dodged around debris. The labyrinth the fire caused must have gotten them turned around, even if they lived here, which was a horrifying thought. Getting lost in your own damn apartment building with the kids in tow? The youngest couldn't have been more than five, and gave Knight a little thumbs up when they reached the stairwell that led out of the building, the merc pointing down the stairs silently and receiving wheezed thanks in return._ _

__Heading back into the flames, Dave paused when he heard yelling, that actually formed into coherent words. "Come on, down here! This way, the stairs are just down this hall!"_ _

__Heir shot around the corner and damn near ran head first into Knight, stopping and looking at him for a moment before having to shout to be heard over the roar of the firestorm, "Knight?"_ _

__"Sup," He greeted loudly in return, a small group of people in all different states of distress turning the corner to see them. "Thought you could use help."_ _

__"Really?!" Oh god, why did he have to seem so excited? "You wanted to help people!!"_ _

__"I wanted to make sure you didn't get yourself killed, since I kinda owe you now." Waving a hand, Knight beckoned the lost apartment dwellers closer, the group seeming to cower as they dodged through the smoke and burning wreckage, "Don't think too much on it."_ _

__A laugh could be heard as Heir started to lead the group to the stairs, watching as part of the wall to their left crumbled under the flames. He seemed way too damn happy considering they were in a collapsing building, causing Knight to hush him as they tried to get the crowd to safety. A few children made whimpering cries, some much louder than others, while the older people of the group tried to catch their breath. Pointing down the stairs, Heir started instructing, "Straight down, and straight forward on the last level. You can't miss it!"_ _

__"I'll take them," Knight assured, "to make sure nothing's blocked off. See if there's anyone else up on this level."_ _

__Even if he couldn't see under that mask, he could practically feel the stupid grin Heir was giving him as he gave a cheesy salute, shooting back off down the hall._ _

__Maybe he should have left him in here alone, ugh._ _

__Knight got the group down to the second level before a loud boom erupted above them, the pod of people all yelling around him as his head tipped up to listen. The entire building shook on its foundation, and Dave could see the walls seeming to crumble when he peaked his head down the hallway on the second level. The entire thing was concaved, a mass of wood, metal and wiring that looked like it'd dropped from one of the higher stories. It took a moment to sink in that something may have happened to Heir back on Level Three, causing the man in red to groan, turning to the teenager at the front of the group. "Listen. Keep going down, the way should be clear to head right out the front door. Don't stop for anything, don't pause if you hear the building shake again, don't stop at. All. Now move, fast." With those stipulations, Dave turned and took the stairs two at a time, bulling himself back up as his skin itched with the sweat from the heat._ _

__Getting back to the third floor, the smoke was so bad the mercenary could barely see, let alone breathe. Putting a glove to his mouth, he ducked his head, looking down the hall that they'd just been in and seeing that the end was collapsed. "Hei-" He'd gotten a chunk of it out loudly, but it ended in a wheezing mess. A good thirty seconds before Knight finally bit the bullet, pulling in a painful lungful to allow him to yell, "Heir?!"_ _

__The lack of a response was deafening as he scrambled down the hall, unable to see any blue in the sea of black and red._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((aww bro had a sharp shooter boyfriend. 3 guesses at that one! Also i hope you enjoyed this chapter, ilu all E> ))


	12. Rogue Realized

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((this took ten years im real sorry pls forgive me

"Dave?"  
  
John was surprised as he looked at him, eyes roving over his face as Dave spoke to him. No words were coming out, just a loud crackling that the dark haired man couldn't identify. Dave's chapped lips curved and moved in an oddly distorted motion, red eyes looking at John with both worry and fear as he his hands cupped John's cheeks. Or, nearly did. It didn't even feel like he had a hand on him, weird. Looking at him, John's head tried to tip, watching Dave as his vermilion eyes welled up. They seemed bigger than John remembered, but it was the tearing up that made him frown.  
  
Oh man, why was he crying? John had seen it once, and that was enough! "No, no, shh-" His throat felt raw, words sounding a bit strained as he said them. It almost sounded like he was speaking under water, every syllable sounding drowned out and too far away to try to get Dave to relax. The sound didn't get quieter, Dave's words still eerily missing as he tried to talk to him.

Why would he be upset? Everything was fine! At least, John remembered everything being fine. Ugh, wait, how did he get here? They.... uh...... he. Wait, no. Hm.

A deep inhale got him coughing, pain shooting through his lungs as his chest heaved with each forced exhale. Lifting a hand to try and see if Dave was actually touching his cheek, John cried out in pain as his eyes really opened, the illusion of his friend leaving and bringing his sight back to the smoke filled air in front of him. More specifically, to the sight of a red mask leaning over him, distorted voice nearly hysteric.  
  
"-on't move, put your hand down," He said, reaching out and setting his hand over John's as he pushed it back to lay on the floor next to him. "Don't move, just don't move, don't move at all, okay?"  
  
"Knight?" John croaked out, eyes narrowing as he started to cough again before forcing in a falsified breath, a boost of air helping him finally catch a lungful. Wow, Knight seemed freaked out. Though, right, they were kind of in a fire. What had happened? Did he get knocked out or something? "What- Uh-"  
  
Shaking his head, Knight's hands seemed to flit over John like he was touching a pile of broken glass. Every small touch was met with the man in red wincing, before his hands lifted away for a second. Was he shaking? "Shh. Don't say shit, got it? Stay still, don't move, don't talk, don't move."  
  
Blinking almost too slowly, John could feel his contacts burning his eyes the more the smoke got in them, but everything still looked a little too clear, even with the ash and dust. Why was the red of his outfit so vivid? It was usually all pale from the white covering his eyes but-

But.  
  
His right hand shot to his face while Knight yelled at him("What did I just say?!"), his cheek feeling the uncovered scrape of his glove against soft flesh.  
  
His cheek was exposed. And his eye. A quick feel around without focusing on the pain in his side, and yeah, everything was exposed.  
  
His mask was off.  
  
"Don't look!" John barked out immediately, a little too loudly even with all the roaring of flames as his fingers covered his face, eyes squeezing closed. Oh god no, no no no, this was _bad_ , he couldn't let Knight see him.  
  
Ok, Knight had definitely already seen him at this point, but _fuck he could so spot John from a hundred feet away when he was shopping for shoes in Walmart now, Jesus fucking christ._ How had it come off?  
  
"Stop being an idiot!" The distorted voice snapped, hand reaching to grab John's and pull it away from his face. His mask was tugged over his head after a few seconds, blue eyes only opening when the milky white material seemed securely in place. "What hurts?"  
  
Heir shifted himself for a moment before wincing, his hand going to his side. At the moment he was tucked into a large amount of overly warm dry wall while surrounded by shredded timber and metal support beaming, making him think that something must have collapsed. When his prodding fingers pulled away from his ribs, they were stained red, causing him to blink a few times before he repeated the action. Again, his hand came back slick with blood, causing him to look up at Knight for a moment.  
  
The blue eyed hero opened his mouth once, then twice behind his mask, but nothing came out. Judging from how quickly Knight moved, though, he saw well enough how much the hero was bleeding.  
  
Grabbing Heir's wrists in both hands, Knight started to pull him to stand before the injured man _screamed_ , the sound cutting through the blaring sound of the destruction around them. They needed to start moving as soon as possible, judging by how shoddy the foundation had to be at that point, but the second he cried out, Knight let up. Looking down, Heir could see that the metal that had cut his side once just did it again, having still been dug in the injury until Knight had pulled him away.  
  
Gritted teeth were all that kept Heir from yelling again as he grabbed back on Knight's wrist and was yanked, pulling himself to stand with a stifled whimper. His side was definitely bleeding, enough that the wetness was recognizable even through the heat of the fire. Two steps, and his world tipped, nausea damn near knocking his feet out from under him as a red hand caught his arm. "-ohn?"  
  
"Wha-?" He questioned, shaking his head a little and finding himself nearly falling over again. It was way easier to focus when he'd been lying on the ground, oh man. His free hand lifted to his head, feeling a throbbing bump on the back of it. Great, split side, he hit his head, and he was abandoned in a burning building with a mercenary. Maybe his adrenaline was at least keeping him a bit on par mentally?  
  
Speaking of. What had Knight just said?  
  
"What's wrong?" The red man repeated, causing Heir to give a small sigh of relief. The end of that had almost sounded like 'John', god, he really needed to get his head back in the game.  
  
"Hit my head," The vigilante admitted, pointing at the bump with a single finger. Another step and he nearly tripped, Knight giving an oddly annoyed sound as he stopped them. "Wh- Hey!" Heir yelled, not expecting it when he was scooped up bridal style with a squawk with too much ease.  
  
While a lot of him would like to say it was from being indignant, it was entirely from the pain radiating in his side, the position momentarily putting strain on it. Pulling in a deep breath to complain, the boy in blue started coughing, which led to him curling against Knight in discomfort as the wracking motion hurt the gash. The heat seemed to be getting worse, and a glance upwards brought his attention to the ceiling streaking past in a blur. Was Knight running?

When his current rescuer skid to a halt, Heir turned his head, looking at the path to the stairs, which was currently blocked by rubbish and debris. "What- It-" He started, before Knight turned on heel, beginning to run the other way.

"I jumped down to the second story to get you, so a lot of these exits are collapsed. You must have gotten knocked out during it all, hit your head along with it," He explained, breath coming out in puffs through his vocalizer.

In reality, what had happened was Knight had ran down a hallway, looking for Heir, and instead caught sight of a familiar face in blue, his mask stuck against a splintered piece of wood while he'd looked practically dead in a mass of scary ass metal and plaster one story below Dave in a hole in the floor.

The merc would like to mark that down as possibly the worst moment of his life, which was a trophy that John should be proud to take home. But he couldn't focus on this being John. John Egbert. John fucking Egbert, roommate and best friend extraordinaire, who was bleeding like a sieve in his arms.

He needed to focus on getting them out of here.

Dave held him a little too tightly as his feet pushed harder, air harder to suck in through the smog and ash floating around them. The fire was making him feel completely overheated and sick, and John's blood was seeping against his outfit which was a whole _new_ kind of horrifying and distracting, but he still ran like it was all he knew how to do. Because if they didn't find a way out, John was gonna find out real damn fast who his best friend really was. Because if they didn't get out, Dave wasn't prepared to let John die on his watch. Because if there wasn't some small break somewhere, Dave wasn't ready to die _period_.

The hallway was coming to an end, flames illuminating it to blinding proportions as the opening of a new hallway provided a glimmer of hope through the embodiment of hell they were in.

A sharp left jerked Heir harder in his arms, but Dave was currently holding him in an already deathly tight grip, the soles of his shoes starting to feel too hot to really handle. Stepping more on the balls of his feet, Knight has to drag his feet to a halt when he was met with a single stray window in the decrepit hall, a board in front of it nearly hiding it from sight. Leaning back on one foot, he was about to kick it out of the way before a hand reached, grabbing the stray timber and pushing it out of the way. A look down reminded him that Heir wasn't completely useless, but shit he was still bleeding, wasn't he?

The foot hit the glass with a deafening shatter, the smoke billowing out in a plume while both Heir and Knight stuffed their heads out for a moment, sucking in fresh air greedily. They were still two stories up, but a glance down assured Dave it really wasn't that far. How he was gonna get an injured Hei- John, out, though, he wasn't quite sure.

Though, the man in question wiggling a little, sliding out of Knights grip and forcing his feet to the floor. He still wasn't walking straight, not to mention his hand stayed planted at his side pretty firmly, but the second he got most of his torso out the window his feet left the floor and he was basically gone. His flying wasn't as smooth as it always had been, movements almost a bit jerky as he lowered himself to the ground, stumbling on his own two feet momentarily.

Dave hit out the last of the glass from the frame with the padded forearm of his outfit and leapt without a second thought, landing on the ground covered in broken glass feet first. Taking the impact fully in his heels before falling to his knee a second later, the mercenary was wheezing like an eighty year old smoker, hand falling to the cold floor in front of him as he tried to catch his breath.

The sound of gravel crunching on his left had his attention brought to a black and blue figure, who was still getting a brighter and brighter bloom of red on his side the more Dave looked. There was a group of spectators just down the end of the building about a hundred feet off from them, all watching it fall apart while completely unaware of the two that just escaped that hellhole. Pushing himself to stand, the fighter opened his mouth to speak before he stopped.

What the hell was he gonna say?

Jesus fucking Christ, John was Heir.

Why hadn't John _told_ him?  
  
They moved in together, they'd been friends since they were children. Through shitty childhoods, bruised elbows, broken hearts, late night assignments, drunken stupors, the best and the worst, John had been his go-to. And he'd been John's. His speed dial, his most recent contact, the top text, the longest streak on Snapchat, that'd been him. But he hadn't found out about him being a goddamn vigilante until accidentally saving his ass? By total chance?

"Go." Pointing down at the crowd, Knight's voice was rough from the fire and the recorder, hand motioning at the group. Walking over, he snatched Heir's mask off without a second thought, John rasping out a complaint as Knight passed it off into his hand. The cold of the outside air compared to how hot the building was damn near worked a shiver out of Knight, and definitely worked one out of Heir as they talked. "Take off your gloves, put them in your pocket. Your outfit is pretty unrecognizable from the black and blood. Go to the hospital. There are ambulances down there."

"I have a friend, she can take me," Heir assured, bloodshot eyes looking at Knight wearily while he croaked it out. Thankfully, he couldn't see Dave's eyes widen at the mention of Rose, but- Oh god, did she know about this too?

... Of fucking course she knew about this too. She stepped in front of Knight because she knew about him from Heir.  John had told her. She's too smart to pull that shit unless she knew about Knight not wanting to hurt random bypassers, not to mention she wanted to make sure he wasn't about to go in and kill her friend.

No wonder she'd moved down to Texas, after Knight's first meeting with Heir. He probably thought Knight would hurt him, or that Heir would get himself hurt.

"You- You're not gonna come after me, right?" John had paused to cough, expression honestly worried as he pressed his hand to his side harder, free fingers tucking the material of his gloves and mask into his right hand pocket. Those stupid cerulean eyes seemed to shine brighter when his face was stained with streaks of soot, reminding Dave of how he'd looked when he'd left the apartment a few hours ago. Supposedly for dinner.

"Why would I?" A flat tone asked, Knight looking at him while trying not to reach out to hug him or slap him. If only the vigilante knew his internal struggle, the bastard.

Swallowing, he nodded for a second before giving a sharp laugh, "Yeah, fair." A tight smile, and John gave a slower nod, letting his hand meet the neighboring buildings wall as he steadied himself. One foot in front of the other, and he began to walk towards the crowd, not even bothering to look back as he heard footfalls head in the opposite direction.  


-  


_"Dave?"_ Rose's voice sounded rushed, almost freaked out as the word crackled through the receiver of her phone, " _You're not picking up, but John's on the way to the ER. There was a fire, and he ran in to help, and apparently got hurt. I'm with him now in the ambulance. He has a concussion, and a large cut to the side. Please meet us at Mercy hospita-_ "  
  
The 'end call' button was hit as Dave opened the door, phone getting tossed carelessly against the table as he went. When the door slammed to Bro's apartment, said Bro's head tipped lazily to look at Dave storming in. Without the mask, gloves and sword, the outfit didn't look so incriminating, but that was mostly because it was stained black with.... "Is that soot?"  
  
"Shut up," Dave said immediately, throwing the spare pieces of his outfit to the floor as he stripped off the top of the outfit, tossing it to the carpet as well.  
  
Christ, that was gonna stain, not to mention Dave was being a dick about it too.

Yeah, this wasn't gonna fly.  
  
"Hey to you too, buttercup," Bro said, eyes narrowing as he pushed himself to stand from the couch, pausing his game, "As much as I love you stoppin' by unannounced and bein' a dickhead, I'm not a fan of you throwin' your gross ass garb on the floor." Tapping them with his toes as he walked past them, Bro trailed behind Dave, sounding about as annoyed as he felt, "Ya know, the clothes I made you about two fuckin' hours ago, that already look like shit?"  
  
He hadn't expected Dave to turn around and throw a punch when he stepped close enough, but that didn't stop him from catching it, fingers wrapping around Dave's closed hand quick as light without batting an eye.  
  
Silence fell between them, Dave looking insanely pissed while Bro stared at him like he was growing a second head. "What the fuck do you think you're doin?"  
  
Dave went to pull his hand back, but Bro wasn't letting go. "I need to shower," The younger Strider snipped, trying to tug his fist away but only being met with resistance.  
  
"Nah, you ain't showerin' til you tell me why you're being a grade A chode and tried to throw a weak ass punch. I taught you better'n that, but besides that, I called you out and you tried to hit me? What the fuck's wrong'th you?" Yanking Dave's hand down and watching him stumble, Bro actually looked vaguely indignant. Since when was it that easy to throw a Strider off step?  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
"I'm gonna kill him," Dave seethed, all the fight seeming to bleed out of him as his shoulders and hands drooped, expression angered and pained. He was stained black across his cheeks and on his shoulders, a glance down showing his shoes partially melted and bubbled to match with the charred clothing. "I'm gonna fucking kill him, how could he do this? I trust him with everything, and-"  
  
"Who, Heir?" The elder asked, not following.  
  
"John!" Dave exclaimed, free hand throwing up, "Who am I always talking about? Yeah Bro, go ahead, make fun of me, I get a crush on the fucker and tada, he's even better than I thought. So pure even an abstinence pact looks skeevy in comparison. Well? Proud that I've managed to sink my teeth into a famous vigilante? Are ya, Pop?" The sarcastic tone was dripping off of Dave's words as Bro dropped his fist, hand coming up to pat at Dave's cheek sharply.  
  
"You're ramblin', knock it off," He reprimanded, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched Dave glare, "Vigilante? Why would John-"  
  
"He lied to me." The words were cracked as Dave lifted both hands to scrub at his eyes, smearing the ash stain further in a brilliant Winter Soldier impression. "He's been lying to me this entire fucking time, I gotta be blind or something."  
  
The realization clicked almost audibly as Bro looked at him, but the immediate reaction he gave was better than he could have planned; The oldest Strider scoffed and responded, "You lie to him all the time too."  
  
"Yeah, but-"  
  
"No fuckin' buts. You lie through your teeth to his face more often than a politician on an election year. I don't wanna hear some fuckin' sob story about how he lied, because you do it too, all the damn time, _Knight_."  
  
Glancing up, red eyes lazily met Bro's shades, their owner obviously exhausted, "I would tell him, if I could."  
  
"What makes you think he can just tell you willy nilly?" Bro challenged, watching Dave blink a few times, "Oh what, didn't think maybe a vigilante runnin' his mouth to people about who he is could cause problems?"  
  
"He told Rose."  
  
"You know that?"  
  
"Well she fucking knows somehow."  
  
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Bro shrugged, "Maybe she figured it out? You know, like you just did? Christ you're dense. So what, John and Heir are one in the same, why do you give a shit?"  
  
"Why do I _give a shit?_ " Dave started, taking a deep inhale before Bro held up a flat hand.  
  
"Wait, scratch that, _I_ don't give a shit." Watching his younger brother close his eyes as he exhaled heavily,  Bro shoved him towards the shower, "Go, shower, we'll talk when you get out."  
  
"I can't, I've gotta go, John's-"  
  
"What, savin' more people?"  
  
"He's in the ER."  
  
"...... You're mad he ain't tellin' you shit while you're spendin' time in my apartment instead of going to visit him in the ER asap?"  
  
"Yeah? Look at me, I look like Pongo after he and the other hundred dalmatians rolled in the fucking pile of soot to sneak past Cruela, plus I sound as raspy as her too. I need to shower, he can't know I was in that fire with him."  
  
"Yeah, about that. What fire?"  
  
"Long fucking story," Dave assured.

"Then I'll give you a ride to the hospital and we can catch up on the daily gossip," His brother offered, pushing Dave down the hall again before leaning to pick up all the laundry he'd just  been left with. "Now hurry up, I'll make you hot water for your throat while you clean up. Don't wanna seem like a bad best-friend-slash-arch-nemesis by being too late, do ya?"  
  
  
-

Leaning back in her chair, Rose set her phone down on her lap, looking at John with an apologetic tip of the eyebrows, "The text is sent. Expect a call from Jade Harley in the next four to eight minutes."

"Did you really have to tell her?" John asked with almost a pout, fiddling with the IV tapped to the back of his right hand. It was nice, being cleaned up and not bleeding, but the sterile and stark room around him was pretty damn uncomfortable, making him feel even more anxious.

"Yes? John you just got twenty staples on your ribs and you have a concussion after running into a fire. Don't be mistaken, I do love you very much, but I need someone else to know that I'm trying my best to keep you alive and it's you're fault I seem to be so bad at the task."

Puffing out a small sigh, he looked around the room a little, picking at the IV as his stomach twisted. He'd been put under when they'd loaded him up with staples and burn cream on his leg, which he hadn't even realized was injured until he was woken up in his own room by Rose. The second he was conscious, however, he immediately felt disgusted by how dirty his hands and hair felt. When he was tested to see if he could stand, he showered, thankful to get all the grime off of himself while there was still a trained staff to replace his bandages after the water. That hadn't been done just yet, the vigilante leaving them to breathe as he pushed damp hair out of his face, but that wasn't what he was focused on.

Currently his attention seemed hyper focused on the door to his room, which so far had only been the threshold to more doctors and nurses.

He had remembered Rose making the call to Dave, but him not picking up was kind of upsetting. Yeah, he was with his brother, but this was an emergency, and he wasn't there yet! Not to mention that unsettling mini-dream of him crying was still pretty vivid in John's mind. What a weird hallucination, at a time like that. Man, it was actually a little frustrating that his brain wasn't even focused on the fact that he was in a pretty dire situation, but more on Dave being all upset and stuff. The mental image made him frown a little, the corner of the tape on his hand getting peeled up by his fingernails as he thought on it more. Maybe it was his subconscious telling him Dave would have worried about him?

Eh who knows.

He just kinda wanted to see his best friend, there was nothing wrong with that! It'd been a stressful day, after all. "He's definitely coming, right?"

"I left a voicemail," Rose tried to assure, watching him fidget before reaching out to set a hand on his forearm. When he looked at her, she gave a small smile, "Try to relax. He'll be here soon, I'm more than sure-"

"-kind of idiot runs into a fucking fire? There are guys fully suited up that get paid to do that, and he decides to sprint into it like a puppy off the leash at a damn dog park." John's attention snapped back to the door, watching it swing open as Dave stepped in, soon followed by his doctor. A small wave to John, and the man glanced at Dave before looking back at John with a raised eyebrow.

"I believe this is your visitor?" He questioned almost cautiously, watching John nod hard enough for his neck to click before giving a nod. A kind smile to Rose, who smiled back, before the physician bowed out politely, the door falling shut quietly behind him and leaving the three young adults in silence.

Looking up at Dave's vaguely blurred figure (His contacts had been totally shot by the time he'd gotten there, they had to go in the trash), John gave the most genuine smile he had in him, honestly more than happy to see his friend. The response he got in return was Dave sticking his hands into his pocket, mouth set in a thin line as he stared at him through his shades while avoiding talking. He'd eaten about thirty throat lozenges in the car, so thankfully he didn't sound too raspy and black lunged, but his voice did still sound a little off, causing him to speak a little quieter than usual.

Dave's head was a jumble the second he saw John.

All of him wanted to be angry that John had spent this long lying to him. That he wouldn't tell him something so cool as hero work, or crime fighting. John didn't tell him he had _powers_ , for god sake, what kind of a best friend was he? He'd been lying to Dave's face, daily, every day that'd been living together, and god knows how long before that. And while his initial reaction was 'That asshole, how could he?'.....

How fucking happy John looked reminded him that Egbert wasn't telling him to protect him. His mind reeled back to Bro and that sharpshooter. How sometimes you give things up, or keep your mouth shut, for someone that you care about. They'd be upset if they found out, but they'd be more upset if they got hurt from your mistake.

Huh. Maybe his brother wasn't completely stupid.

"You need a babysitter," Dave accused as he walked over to him, reaching to flick John's ear and ignoring the noise protest he got. Listening to John and Rose laugh, he gave a smile of his own for a moment before an idea flashed in his mind.

Well. He wasn't a fan of being in Bro's shadow. Maybe protecting John on the job was his way to step out of it.

The vivid memory of Mycron nearly planting a bullet between Heir's eyes now became a lot more gut wrenching when he realized that it was John, instead. Thinking of all the times Heir could have endangered himself without Knight being there to cover him made Dave sick, because John wasn't a good enough fighter to protect himself just yet. His heart was there, his intentions were good, but he wasn't equipped to handle what Houston would throw at him, even with Dave teaching him self defense in their free time.

So maybe Knight would be his babysitter, instead. Pull him from the fire, play protector, under the guise of wanting to do some good, to 'help people'. Heir would fall for it, that much was sure, and he could make sure that nobody was out to hurt him.

It was definitely a win win situation.

"I do not!" John defended, scooting his leg so Dave could sit down on the edge of his bed. When he did, the injured one continued, "I handled myself pretty well on my own, thanks. Look at me, totally alive and in one piece."

"The voicemail said you were cut, so mostly one piece. Also, I'm pretty sure Lalonde and I are full time babysitters as it is. Maybe we need to hire another, though." Dave reached out to pat John's hand before the phone on Rose's lap rang, the blonde picking it up and looking at the caller ID.

"It's for you," She said in an amused tone, John lifting his hand away from Dave's to grab the phone and groan when he looked at it. Sliding the circle to the green 'answer' button, a slur of Japanese immediately poured out, Rose and Dave glancing at each other as John groaned and sat back.

"Wishing I was less alive, now," He muttered to Dave, who just shook his head in response.

"Always over dramatic." Turning to Rose, Dave got comfortable, sitting back a little on John's bed as well and kicking his feet. The shoes he was wearing were just a little too big, hand me downs from his sibling, seeing as his own had practically melted to his skin. However, them being oversized was a godsent, considering his shoes had enough gauze in them to put the set of the Mummy to shame. "You may wanna get comfy, this'll take a while."

"No, it won't." Blinking once, John set down the phone, ending the call as both of their gazes turned to settle on him. "She hung up already, but.... yeah. Jade's coming to Texas."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((O: Jade u say? and dave actually knowing things? 2 spoopy. But yeah, sorry this chapter was shorter than usual! The next few will b fairly packed, so I really hope you like it ^^ ilu guys


	13. Page From an Old Book

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Do you ever just.

"Defecting?" The word was spit like venom, Jack's mouth curling into a disdained frown. "This is a Strider, they do good work and stay faithful."

"He may do good work, as good as the olda one, but his face is currently plasta'd on every tabloid." Tossing the rag of a magazine on the table in front of his boss, Spade's eyes narrowed, one a pale blue in comparison to the deep brown of the other. Black hair was oiled back on Slick's head, a sleek look to be paired with the clean shaven face to show off a scar running dangerously close to his blue eye and down his chin, while lithe arms crossed over his chest, "Apparently ran int'a fire. Even talked to a civilian."

That got two dark eyebrows to raise, Noir's gaze flicking to the tabloid as a careful hand plucked it up as if it were toxic. Looking at the front, his nose crinkled as half of it lifted, giving a snarl that would put a hound to shame. The front was definitely his assassin, holding back a random woman before running into the flames. A small subtitle questioned if he were chasing after the new hero, Heir, while the title, 'Hero of the Knight' had him flicking it away. "The real question was who he was chasing into that fire without orders. He's always had a soft spot for the people outside of his target, Slick, this isn't anything new."

"There were several casualties that could have been some of his own work, we're still lookin' inta it. Who knows, maybe his softspot for people has worn thin and he went in there ta take care of one'a his own problems. But that little comment on the fronta that is makin' me think that soft spot has developed for that damn vigilante." Scoffing, Slick flopped into the chair across from his employer, the office light around them low enough that his dark clothing nearly blended with the black material of the seat.

"Developed for whom?"

"Heir." Even saying the name was met with the New Yorker sighing, thick accent laced with annoyance, "The blue fuck that made Strida ruin the Mycron job."

"With the severed hand and broken ribs. You told me he reported that to be a one time incident."

Shaking his head, the man scratched at his earlobe, "Yeah, he said that, and I was inclined ta believe it. But new info's makin' me think that maybe he's startin' up a partnership."

"What new info?" Noir bit the words out, hazel eyes narrowing as he looked at Spade.

Putting up a gloved hand in a surrendering pose, Slick didn't look at all apologetic about his slow uptake of getting the information to his boss, "I had men lookin' inta it. Didn't wanna be misinformed, ya know?"

Broad shoulders squared as Jack folded his hands together, leaning his forearms on his desk as he looked at the man expectantly. That was enough to get Slick talking without much further ado, not willing to gamble on tempting the fate of meeting Jack's infamous rage.

"Burr, decapitation. Clean job, like we're used ta, but one problem; Strida fell off the fuckin' buildin'. Got security footage to make sure it all got wrapped up within the guidelines he fucked up last time, and we see him fallin' clear as day. Ain't no way ain't no how he shoulda lived, but tada, his sorry ass got spotted ten blocks away on our street cam gettin' pretty damn cuddly with a ball'a blue. After all those eye witnesses sayin' he was playin' savior to 'em, I had to keep my eyes on him, and then this? I'm gettin' a lil worried that maybe they're startin' to pair up."

"So, they met on the Mycron case, worked together, then Strider was saved by him on the Burr case." Mouth setting into a flat line, Jack's hand snapped back to the paper, grabbing it and pulling it back in front of him. "Are there any reports of both of them alive?"

"We saw Strida go back to his old apartment. The blue kid, we ain't seen mucha yet, but unless he's one of those regeneratin' ones, he may have gotten knocked outta commission. Pretty bad fire, judgin' by the death toll."

"Is there a chance he went in there to take the vigilante out? He knows better than to partner with someone else; perhaps it had been unfortunate coincidences until that point, and he decided to end it before we found out."

Shaking his head a touch, Slick set his elbow on the arm of the chair so he could lean his chin into his knuckle, "I ain't thinkin' so. They've seemed pretty buddy buddy."

"How 'buddy buddy'?" The leader questioned in a flat voice, obviously unamused with the juvenile terminology.

"It's remindin' me of the start of the first Strida's relationship, if I'm bein' fully honest."

Fifteen years ago, back when Dirk Strider only had two years left on his contract, he seemed to fall into a romantic relationship with a fellow new assassin, the public naming him Raider after his seemingly sticky fingers at the end of any of his jobs. They were considered to be cat burglaries as well as murders, seeing as any item of importance had been lifted without a trace while the body was always somewhere fitting; a chair, the couch, the bed, looking peaceful as ever. Fairly clean as well, single shots killing the target without much of a struggle.

This, paired with extensive use of pistols, reminded the masses of Lara Croft from Tomb Raider, a popular video game and new movie at the time.

The style was the complete opposite of his counterpart, who used swords and left scenes more gory than thought physically possible without putting a single thing out of place _besides_ the body. Usually strewn viscera spanning the length of rooms, putting several investigators off of the case due to weak stomachs from the sight.

No public name ever stuck for the elder Strider, seeing as his work was never dubbed as assassin work; it was assumed to be a serial killer, who was called The Judge by journalists. Most of the targets that came to light had been a part of some court case, all testifying against Noir's undercover men that where supplying drag trafficking services through a trucking company. 

What a coincidence they were all six of them were dead in a month.

Point being, when the pattern of an alliance started to develop, Jack had asked Slick to keep tabs on it, seeing as he seemed to have eyes and ears all around and could report if things developed past a seemingly understandable partnership.

When it turned to romance, Slick brought it up to Jack as soon as he realized, bringing attention to the fact of alliances being a bit of a slippery slope. Not to mention it was no doubt leading to them sharing information of their lives outside of work, making both of them liabilities to each other.

So, a small conversation with Strider got them on the same page, the threat of how fast a bullet could go through Raider's skull ringing in the blond's own as he agreed to cut all contact before something went wrong. By that point, he was mere weeks from ending his own contract, so when Raider questioned his absence, Slick dismissed it with the lie that Strider was killed in action on his final mission.

Raider's work got messy for a short while after that, before improving ten fold. He was still in his contract, a twenty year sentence, but due to the high price of his services wasn't used nearly as often anymore.

The idea that a partnership was forming _outside_ of their ring, especially with a vigilante, only made Noir sigh. "Can you get information on this 'Heir'?"

"Not yet. Seems ta have gone AWOL after the fire, if he ain't dead already," Slick admitted, before raising his eyebrows, "Could still use the brotha for leverage, though."

"Injuring a previous employee isn't  acceptable," Jack pointed out, seeming to ponder the thought as he looked at the picture of his right hand man running into the mass of flames, "He provided us good work for ten years, I'm not about to turn my back on that."

"Which I get, definitely, but don't ya think we need to remind him who he's workin' for? We already had ta pull him outta his house once when he thought he could just quit; What if he's thinkin' he can get away with somethin' like this too?"

Giving a hum of thought at that, Jack looked back up at Slick, "For the moment being, we don't even know if the blue pest is even alive. So, watch Strider carefully. If they're working together, I want it over, now. Understood?"

"You got it sir."

"Call in Raider, seeing as Strider is compromised. I want Heir dead."

-

 

"Do you want split staples? Because that's how you get split staples."

"Ya know Dave, all this time of living together, and I never realized you were such a mother." Blowing a raspberry, John tripped almost immediately after saying that, yelping as he was jerked closer to the floor by getting tangled in his own shoelaces. When a hand on his arm and chest kept him from meeting it with a thud, he looked up only to see Dave looking fairly smug, clicking his tongue.

"Ignoring tying your shoes because you can't bend over leads to tripping and bleeding, trust me." Pulling him to stand, Dave crouched and started to tie John's laces for him, "Common sense doesn't make me a mom."

Looking down at him, John reached out to flick a piece of hair that was out of place, still looking pretty amused even with being proven wrong, "Nah, but you've been staying even closer than usual since I got here! Two days in the hospital and you've gone home once to change and grab my shit, you must feel gross. How's that plaque on your teeth feel?"

"Almost as good as your side probably feels." Tightening his shoe a bit too much in retaliation, Dave tied it off with a perfect bow before standing and feeling John lean on his arm immediately. He was finally out of the hospital gown and out of bed, and while he was accusing Dave of staying by his side too much, the injured man wasn't doing much better himself with refraining from gripping fingers.

Rose had pointed out that he seemed to always be touching Dave in some way, over the course of his short hospital stay. Their legs leaning together, hands touching, John scooting his knee to be against Dave's back when he was sitting on the edge of his bed. What really made her more smug than before was the fact that Dave admitted that he'd already noticed, having to put a hand over her face and push her away when she leaned in with an interested expression. Dave pleaded it mere observance while she gave a bark of a laugh that was definitely fake, following him out of the house as they headed back to the hospital. He only left for an hour long period to shower and grab John's phone charger, but the other blonde insisted on coming with and making him suffer through all of her teasing the entire way there and back. Luckily, he didn't have to do the same home-bound run that night as well, seeing as John was cleared to leave.

He'd gotten his discharge papers an hour ago, and a text from Jade saying she'd be in Houston around midnight. Her three day delay was appreciated by John, but loathed by the other two, who where excited to see the fourth member of their crew. Dave didn't know how long she'd be staying, which _could_ be cause for concern. And yet, now knowing that he was living with a famous vigilante and also living with the assumption that Jade knew about it, he was sure this was gonna be a lot easier to work around than it was when Rose moved in. Less worrying about her and John's patterns and more comfortable using it against them.

Speaking of.

When he'd gone to grab John's charger, he'd had a total of two whole uninterrupted minutes in his room to set up some sort of fail safe; he couldn't go peak his head in to _check_ if John was out playing Heir, because Lalonde claimed she was in there with him most nights. She was probably keeping an eye out for Dave, when he actually thought about it, but that wasn't the point. The point was, he needed to have some sort of way of knowing if John was out working, so he could go follow and keep a careful eye on him.

By the time he left the room with charger (and John's glasses as an afterthought) in hand, two small black pieces of plastic were stuck to the hinges of his windows. Smart tech, to alert Dave the moment the object in question was moved, given to him by Noir use on the job. It was usually pretty helpful to warn him the second a door in question was opened and he could come in swinging, but seeing as he wasn't a fan of his roommate dying a bloody death on his watch, he could make due without it.

"You know, you mock me for it, but if anyone looked over the last few days, they'd definitely agree with me that you've been more touchy-feely than I have." Squaring his arm a little more comfortably for John, Dave began to lead him down the hallway leading away from his old room, a few of the nurses flashing them smiles as they followed the signs leading to the front entrance.

"I'm allowed to be clingy, I almost died." The moment he used that, he received an unimpressed glare from behind tinted glasses, but John stuck with it and even tightened his hold on him to prove his point, "What?! It's true! I saw my whole life flash before my eyes, and I missed my best friend during that flash. Now I want to be close to him! I'm allowed to be all weepy, sue me."

"I will sue you. For nearly fucking giving me a heart attack by running into a fire and then using that as a vantage point for an argument. I'll win, John."

"It would be a super stupid court case."

"But the jury would sympathize with me."

"I really don't think so! I think they'd sympathize with the guy full of staples who was getting sued for doing a good thing."

"I think they'd agree with me that you're not a trained professional and you need to learn the words 'self preservation' before I tattoo them on your forehead in your sleep."

That had John scoffing ridiculously, but he still didn't let up his hold on Dave as they left the building. If he were honest, he'd admit that he wasn't really sure _why_ he was being so clingy; that thought of Dave crying when he'd gotten knocked out hadn't left, and when he told Rose about it one of the few times Dave had gone to the bathroom, she claimed it was guilt. The whole song and dance of 'you are constantly lying to him, and you nearly died without coming clean to him while knowing how upset and scared he'd be if he knew' was spit out in a practiced tone, and John pondered it before clarifying. Guilty, maybe, but it wasn't guilt that was making him constantly checking to see if Dave was _there_. Whether it be touching knees, or a casual bump of shoulders, it was like John needed the  constant affirmation that yeah, that was Dave, and he was right there.

He said this, and she started on a spiel about perhaps he felt like his near miss had been a nearly lost opportunity with Dave, and that had him sighing and shutting her down. The words 'There's nothing to miss with Dave!' came out of his mouth as she got an almost sympathetic look in her eye at how unsure he sounded while saying it.

So far, he was chalking it up to having a near death experience and going to the best provider of comfort he knew. Before they lived together, he and Dave talked through any rough patches in their lives, but now that they were under the same roof they usually seemed to hug and watch shitty TV while talking it out, before passing out on the couch. And tada, it worked wonders! They were actually closer than ever, which is why he was so emotionally reliant on him now! Duh.

By the time they were on their way home, John's tired gaze was dragging along the city streets, watching the cars going past without actually paying attention. His side and leg throbbed, reminding him that he was given pretty heavy pain medication that they needed to pick up from the pharmacy down the street from their place at some point. The stray thought of 'Can't use those when I'm on the job' hit, before the vigilante blinked a few times, snapping out of his dazed thoughts.

Right. Of course, he was going to go back out and keep working! But. A glance over to Dave, who was currently texting both Rose and Jade about finally getting out of the hospital, had that sick feeling twisting in his stomach all over again.

Okay yeah, guilt was definitely part of it.

"Hey Dave?"

"Yo," The blond responded, looking up from his screen and sending the unfinished text as it was with a stray press of his thumb.

"..... I didn't mean to freak you out." He watched as Dave's expression didn't change, but it was too carefully consistent not to be hiding something, "Like I keep playing off running into the fire, but I didn't _want_ to scare you or anything. If I found out you were in that fire instead of me, I would have gotten so upset, and you found out over _voicemail_. I was joking with Rose that that was your fault for not picking up the phone, but...." Rose had saw him go into that fire, fully knowing that there was a chance of him being hurt, just like there always was when he was out on a job. Dave, though, had no clue what kind of life he led. From his perspective, John and Rose went out to a nice dinner and it landed John in the ER, with only a short message from their friend to offer any explanation. "There was no good way to tell you because it was just shitty news, so I'm sorry about being the cause of said shitty news."

When John finished talking, Dave's mouth shifted, looking pinched for a few beats of silence before he spoke. "That was the most botched bastardization of an apology I've ever heard."

"I really tried."

"No you fuckin' didn't, you didn't even say the word 'sorry'."

"I'm not sorry about doing it, I'm just sorry that I scared you. Better?"

Dropping his head back against the seat as the cab jerked to a stop at a red light, Dave reached his hand up to pinch at his nose under the bridge of his shades. "John, for fucks sake, I'm fine with the fact that you wanted to save people, but I'd rather have you alive than them, okay?"

That earned raised eyebrows, the ravenette looking at him with a stunned expression, "That's...........really fucking selfish. There were a lot of people in that building that could have died-"

"I'm being honest with you right now. That's why it pissed me off that you ran in there, okay? There are firemen in fully flame retardant suits to go in there and save those people. You aren't trained to do that. Your heart is in the action, which is great, but you don't have the skills to save those people without killing yourself in the process."

Alright, there was a one hundred percent chance Dave was guilting John a bit, but the fucker deserved it in the Strider's eyes. He was saying the advice he wanted to say as Knight, but also the shit John needed to hear as Heir. So, the statements continued as he sat back up, turning to look at his friend, "I don't want you throwing yourself at danger because you want to help, okay? This situation just makes me constantly worried about you. If you see some dude getting mugged on the street, are you gonna hop in and get yourself sliced open? If a building is being robbed, are you gonna try to jimmy the door open and tackle the fucker?"

John practically shied away from the question once it was actually posed, mouth set in a frown but eyebrows lilted on the ends in an upset expression. "I can handle myself, Dave, Jesus. I'm not a child."

"Oh you can handle yourself? Against a gun? Or a knife?"

When Dave bit the words out, John looked over at him, only to find the blond looking away from him. "Dave, I-"

"Answer me honestly. If you saw either of those situations, would you try to help?"

Silence for five long seconds. "Yeah." It came out a bit less enthusiastically than John would have liked, but he blamed that on his throat still being sore from the fire. "Yeah I would."

"........... I'm going to teach fatal self defense moves and disarming procedures."

"Hold u- Wait, no, what?" The entire sad face disappeared as John looked stunned, turning despite the pain in his side to look at Dave more directly, "Are you serious?"

Raising his hands in faux defense, Dave kept his voice convincingly frustrated as he looked at him, "I can't be assured that you're not gonna throw yourself in harms way, and I can't be with you all the time. If you want to do stupid shit under the guise of 'being able to handle yourself', I'm _really_ gonna teach you how to handle yourself then. I'm not about to get a three AM voicemail saying you were shot in an alley because you couldn't disarm someone."

Giving a disbelieving laugh, John scrubbed at his face after pushing his glasses into his hair, "So wait, I run into one fire, and you decide to teach me how to handle a knife fight?"

"No," Dave started to clarify, making sure to keep seeming like he was pissed with this plan, "You showed me how willing you were to risk your hide for strangers, so I'm gonna take a few steps of precaution in keeping you safe because I like you alive."

"That's.... Thanks, Dave."

"Don't thank me," the Strider insisted in an annoyed tone, "Just. Fuck, promise me that you'll try not to die? I'm already training you just to make sure you can handle Houston in general, I really don't want you using any of the serious shit you learn from me against the criminal underbelly." That's exactly what Dave wanted, and he was positive John would provide exactly that.

"Of course not!" John assured falsely, Dave pretending to let out a sigh of relief, "For emergencies only, okay?"

"Okay," Dave said, reaching out to pat his shoulder heavily and getting a megawatt smile in return, both of them feeling like the victors of this current deal.

-

_"The man in red saved our lives," The teenager stated nervously, the news banner fading between 'Knight in Burning Amour' to a subtitle claiming 'Savior to a group, the merc helping famous vigilante again'. "He led us out of there, he even helped Heir."_

_"It's true," A different man assured as the report flashed, a hand on the shoulder of his young child, "He found our family when we were lost in that fire. If he didn't show us the way out- My wife is pregnant right now. I would have lost the love of my life and all four of my children. I owe him everything."  
_

"Cripes, the pregnancy gambit?" Flicking off the TV with a lazy press of the remote, a mop of brown hair flopped against the back of the couch. "Honestly, people've got no respect at all these days! It's shameless pity-mongering."

The words echoed in the quiet apartment, emerald eyes glancing back to the blank screen for only a moment before they closed.

His work phone, which was currently sitting on the end table next to him, only had one message in its inbox, two days old. It'd been months since they needed to use him; he specialized in taking out high profile targets, seeing as he forced them to pay through the nose at this point. He had no pity for Spade's men or for his wallet, making him the last resort in a bad situation.

The only text in question had been, ' **$40,000. Heir. If found together, incapacitate and bring in Knight after eliminating Heir. Call office for further details.** '

He didn't know either name. Then again, it wasn't like he was really big on watching any news channels. He would be pretty far out of the loop. A few google searches had him just a bit more informed, his confusion blooming further the more he looked. Information on Knight seemed scarce, but if they wanted him alive, he must work with Noir at very least. He was an mercenary who'd gone clean, it seemed. So far he'd had five public cases, only getting his name to them after he'd paired with some new hero a few weeks back who'd outed him.

It was interesting, that he was so good at quick deaths. But what was actually enthralling was when Jake English decided to watch one video of the pair of his newest targets.

He managed to find one, the most played clip of them, released by 7 News with all the gore blurred out. Thankfully, that's not what he was looking for. He watched as a blur of pale grey slammed into a dark blob of black, knocking them over. And after a moment, he watched the blob of black tip a gun at the light grey figure, before out of nowhere a charcoal colored runner jumped and threw his weight into a sword pulled off of his back, a sidelong swing that should have been impossible to control hitting the wrist of the shooter.

It may have been on a grainy security camera, but the man still recognized it in an instant. That move had saved his life more than once.

It had been a long time, since he'd seen it pulled off. Fifteen years, actually.

How was he using techniques that hadn't been taught to anyone?  
  
Hm.

He'd gotten distracted by that stupid news report, which had only confused him further seeing as someone with the skill set comparable to his old friend would never switch over to heroism.

Opening his eyes, Jake picked up his phone, looking back at the message. A press on the 'call' symbol, and he waited for three rings before a calm voice poured through. "Ombudsman College, Jackie speaking." Right, a new alias this month, huh? Shit, he hoped he remembered the right words to get through the shitty front.

"Hello Jackie," A British accent bit the name out a bit harshly, but Jake kept his voice cheery, "I need to talk to administration? Preferably to Mr. Captor about some information dealing with a student in my class."

The woman didn't even respond, the line clicking almost immediately. Two rings, and he got a single "Sup?", the soft lisp in the voice cuing him in that he'd gotten to the right man.

"Captor, old chap. How's the office?"

"Lame as all hell. How's the social life?"

"Absolute hogswollop, as per usual. Listen, I got a message, and I'm honestly blitzed by how uniformed I am. Think you can lend a hand?"

A hum, and Captor cleared his throat, "Alright, at the ready on the computer. What do you need info on?"

"I have to track down two men called Heir and Knight."

"....... What?"

"Is that a problem?"

"Why do you need to go after Knight?" His tone sounded confused.

"Hiyo!" Jake nearly cheered, thankful that he may get more info than usual, "I have to bring him in for questioning. You know him then?"

The question was met with the distant tapping of keys. "Yeah, great dude. I was glad I finally had something to call him when those stupid witnesses gave him a name. He's practically Jack's right hand man."

"Not too great, apparently," Jake laughed, "If you say he's good people, though, I'll try not to rough him up too much."

"It'd be nice, to have him owe me something." The key tapping stopped, before silence ensued, the pause getting longer and longer. "Raider, I mean this in the best way possible; Don't flip a tit over this, okay?"

"What the devil does that mean?" Jake asked as his brow furrowed.

"I didn't know, okay? I've never had a reason to look into him, so I didn't know, or I would have told you." His tone was honest, but how rushed it sounded was making Jake shift uncomfortably, pushing himself to stand just so he could move.

"Honestly Captor, spit it out, you're doing a bangup job of being cryptic as all hell."

"The name I have for him is Strider."

The information broker was one of the few people who knew about Raider's rocky past under Noir's employ, having been briefed on it when he started, from what he'd told Jake. It was an example, for what to look out for between any agents, and the two had never talked about it again until now.

".... Holy fucking mackerel, this is a god awful joke."

"I'm serious. D. Strider, that's all that's listed, but a few-"

"Captor, tell me you're lying, tell me you're yanking my chain and-"

"I told you not to flip a tit. I swear I had no fucking clue, I think the only reason the information is even out at all is because there's a hit out on him now. Look, I don't know much about him, but I have an address and-"

"Give it, now." Feet shoving against the carpet as the man headed for his front door, Jake scooped up his keys, shoving them in his pocket with a wayward glance at the clock. It was seven thirty in the evening, not usually the time for a social call, but betrayal, anger and the smallest sliver of hope was really throwing social formalities under the bus.

"It's claimed to be an old address, but someone lives there with him that he visits. The new one, I don't have info on, we know vague location but not specifics just yet. I don't even know if he's gonna be there."

"Who's he been visiting?" Jake questioned, pushing his feet into his shoes.

"I don't have specifics, but Raider, I don't think this is the same-"

"How many other assassins named D. Strider can there possibly be?" He snapped out, pulling his front door and yanking it shut behind him, heading for his car, "It's the same fucking one it was then. Treacheries of the heart that Slick's using against me a _second_ time. Good fucking gravy, I'm gonna kill him."

"Which 'him', Slick or Knight?"

"Both! Address, now, Captor!"

As his feet pattered down the stair well of his apartment, Jake listened to the address and committed it to memory, his resolve hardening when he hung up the phone.

Dirk Strider was gonna be a dead man all over again by the time Jake traced down his shitty persona called Knight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Jake u dork uve got it all wrong. Ah, well, he'll learn. I really hope you guys like it! And seriously thank you so much for reading, it means the world, you don't even know.


	14. Helpless Void

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((I know this went on a 3 month hiatus, and in that time, I got pretty much every bad illness you can think of. So I'm sorry for the massive break. On that note, I'm insanely sorry for the wait, and I hope you guys enjoy!

TG: it doesnt suck  
TT: It definitely fucking sucks, but that's kind of just a matter of opinion.  
TG: yeah well your opinion blows  
TG: this app was the best damn thing we all had for talking to each other for a long time  
TT: Because texting is an over ridiculous concept.  
TT: You guys had to go for the hipster option of finding some weird, outdated app.  
TG: jade lived on the other side of the globe asshole  
TG: verison doesnt cover the whole planet, plus i wasnt about to rack up more phone bills than a sex line because i wanted to talk to all of my friends at once  
TT: She lives in Washington now. Isn't she coming to Houston in like, five hours anyways? Why still use it, and better yet, why make me get it too?   
TG: eh habit mostly  
TG: also i like the colors better than regular texting, tbh  
TT: I hate you.  
TT: You guys make it home yet?  
TG: yeah had to stop and get egbert meds  
TG: his sides really banged up so without them hes gonna be whiny mess  
TT: Sounds like you whenever you get injured.  
TT: Aren't you two the perfect pair?  
TG: hey  
TG: hey  
TG: hey  
TG: shut the fuck up  
TG: we shouldnt be too long though  
TG: by the way when can i stop by to get my clothes  
TT: Whenever you want, I guess. I had to hand wash them to get all the damn soot out.  
TT: Have I told you today that you're an ungrateful piece of shit by the way?  
TT: I know I raised you that way, but it extends even past my handiwork.  
TG: yeah well i did learn from example  
TG: thanks for cleaning it  
TG: who knows what id do without you to add soap and water to a sink and let clothing soak in it  
TG: probably would be on the streets selling drugs at this point  
TG: fallen into a life of crime  
TG: wait  
TT: You called yourself out on it, my work here is done.  
TT: Okay, hold up.   
TT: Does UPS deliver at 8 at night?  
TG: i wouldnt know im not obsessed with online shopping  
TT: Hey, obsessed is a strong word. I just don't like leaving my house, or going into stores. It's useful.  
TT: Someone's knocking, I gotta go.  
TG: yo are you sure they deliver this late?  
TT: Nah, but whoever it is, I think I can definitely take them. Go take care of your idiot.

 

\--timaeusTestified [TT] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 20:03--

 

Looking back on it, Bro really found himself wishing that he'd looked through the peephole when he'd gotten to the door. After ending his 'pester' (that app was a pain in the fucking ass, but being able to type in orange was kinda cool. Not that he'd ever admit that), his phone had gotten dropped to the couch lazily as the man stood and stretched, arms going above his head as his back popped repeatedly. The knocking at his door hadn't let up, every thirty seconds or so ringing out in a little wave. Whoever it was was damn persistent, seeing as Bro had been hoping they'd leave after the first set of hits.

"Comin'," He called out, straightening his shades as he dragged bare feet across the carpet. Don't get him wrong, a black wifebeater and grey sweatpants weren't the ideal outfit to protect himself in, but he was really doubting that there was someone at the door that intended to harm him. Those days were long gone, but the fact that someone was at his door as late as it was did raise the suspicion and the thought.

He tightened his sweatpants and tied the strings in a little bow, but took no further precautions as he reached and pulled the door open. "What do you-"

No one. A quick turn of his head to the right, and yup, empty hallway.

Well.

Jake hadn't actually expected Dirk to be the one to open the door in the first place.

The entire way over there, Jake had been fuming. Ready to yell, to demand answers from his ex, to find out why the hell he was still _alive_ after all these years, why he hadn't looked for Jake at all after his contract ended. Why he'd left in the first place and let the rumor that he was dead be the way that they'd ended things. Ask how he could just start up again all this time later with a _new partner_ , like the first bout of lying wasn't a sword through the heart already.

Yet all of that shut down the second the door opened and the blond stepped into the hallway. Dirk looked a bit aged; his jawline had sharpened while his sideburns looked more filled out, broad shoulders squared as his hand hung on the door handle. He was clean shaven otherwise, compared to Jake's stubble, but looked to be in almost comfy clothing. The singlet he was wearing showed that he was still in top shape, which would make sense seeing as he was back into the working line. Another thing that hadn't changed were those awful sunglasses, resting on the bridge of his nose and shrouding a usually piercing gaze as his head started to turn to the left.

He looked good, and Jake _hated_ it.

The pistol cocked as Dirk's gaze turned entirely to the left, the cool rim of the barrel meeting the skin of his forehead with a light abrasive drag.

"Strider," He said in a flat tone, taking a step forward as Dirk stepped back in tandem, slowly moving back into his apartment.

".....English."

In Dirk's defense, the reason it came out as breathy and slow as it did was from two separate things; A: there was kind of a gun to his head. Which wasn't new, duh, obviously, but B: Jake turned out to be like a fine wine; good when it was young, but holy shit did he age well. If Dirk were completely honest, he was still a little too busy being proud of the fact that this was the dude he was with for literal years to even focus on stepping backwards, almost stumbling when he reached the carpet while Jake shut the door behind him.

"Good to see you," The blond tried, words still not as confident as he wished they were while Jake looked at him like he was just offended by his very presence.

The laugh he got wasn't the one he remembered; this one sounded flatter, deeper, and far more forced than any he'd earned from Jake in the past. "Truly wish I could say the same, you complete and _utter_ prick."

"Y'know," Dirk said in a light tone, hands casually lofting into the standard surrendering position, "It's one thing to drop by for a visit without warnin', but insultin' me is a new low."

"Oh I'm _so_ sorry!" Putting his free hand over his heart, Jake's grip on his gun tightened as his arm straightened further, a new coat of anger being painted over his expression, "How _dare_ I stop by without a warning ring! And here I thought I was raised with more manners than that, truly. It was deplorable. Dastardly. Disrespectful."

"Nice alliteration."

"Do you understand how badly I want to shoot you right between those citrine eyes of yours?"

"Poetic and threatening. Startin' to remember why I fell for you in the first place."

As the gun cocked, Dirk lashed out and forward, head ducking while his hand went to tangle around Jake's, pinning his fingers to the gun as he ripped it to the side. Never one to be outshone, Jake wrapped a leg between and around Dirk's, pulling his left one from under him and aiming to trip him. This merely got him stumbling back, meeting the wall with a loud thud as Jake pressed him against it further. The metal of the barrel got shoved right over his heart, the circular ridge embedding into his skin through the material of his wifebeater as Jake opened his mouth to snap something out and-

Was interrupted.

"Yo, Dirk," A muffled voice called from the other side of the wall. Both of the men stilled and listened as the voice continued, "You alright?"

A pause resounded, Dirk looking Jake dead in the eye as he called back. "Yeah Geoff, just watchin' a Stephen Chow movie. Great surround sound, you know how it is."

"Which one? Shaolin Soccer? Kung Fu Hustle?"

"God of Cookery, actually."

"Damn," The disembodied voice responded, "That's a good one." A moment of quietness, and the man spoke back up, sounding like he was chewing or eating, "Aight man, well, sorry for interrupting." The sound of the neighbors own TV getting turned up a few notches drowned out the silence left behind by the man ending the conversation, and left Jake glaring at Dirk as he pressed the gun to him harder.

"What?" Dirk questioned, "Not a fan of Stephen Chow?"

"His movies are spectacular, actually," Jake admitted, and for some reason that actually got Dirk's headspace from 'offended that he's pointing a gun at me' to 'man I knew I banged this guy for a good reason', "But I swear to god if you try pulling that hogswollop of a move again, I'll-"

Again, an interruption.

This time, though, things seemed to move at a thousand miles an hour while also coated in molasses as the blond entirely ignored the end of Jake's threat, breaking the rules before they were fully laid out. Dirk pressed off the wall and grabbed over Jake's hand for a second time, cranking it to aim at the floor as his mouth met the black haired boys.

While his eyes were wide, Jake watched as Dirk's own closed, feeling his ex's hand cover the gun-for-hire's and pull the trigger eight times. However, much to Dirk's surprise and none to Jake's, the sound of bullets never met his ears. Instead, it was the empty click of a gun that still had the safety on.

Neither had pulled back from each others lips, Dirk's eyes still shut and Jake's unblinking.

It was reminiscent of their first kiss, the longer it stretched. Jake had finished a job (They'd first gotten acquainted after Jake's very first job, and this had been his what, fifth? Sixth? )and met up with his new 'partner' of sorts, which had still been under wraps at the time. They'd actually met on a rooftop not too far from Dirk's current apartment, which was something he'd noted bitterly on the drive over. They'd pulled their masks up far enough to speak, and Jake remembered Dirk only smiled once, and it had been absolutely stunning. And before he even saw the rest of him, he'd yanked the idiot into a kiss and it was startling and a total risk, and even then, Jake's eyes had been open for ten seconds before they'd closed.

Just like now.

Right, bollocks, they were still kissing.

Dirk was the one to pull back, seeing as Jake still seemed either spellbound or paralyzed, depending on if the situation was romanticized or not. "You had the safety on?"

Finally blinking once, then twice, Jake let the arm holding the gun drop as he spoke in reference to the kiss, "Why would you do that?"

"10% for a distraction," Dirk started, usual overbearing and confident voice sounding a titch quieter and bringing a toytown level of endearment to the situation. "45% because I missed it."

"I'm going to take a wild gander and suppose that the last 45% was-"

"Was because I hoped you missed it too." Those stupidly expressive eyebrows, which typically never so much as budged with anyone else, tugged down on the far ends and made a usual blank expression look unhappy. No other part of his face had so much as twitched, but the second his brows were tipped down, Jake's pain at the situation doubled.

He was trying to play Jake like a fiddle.

And it had _almost_ worked.

Looking over the blonds countenance, Jake straight up frowned, vexation driving him to drop the gun to the floor with a clatter as he fisted up Dirk's shirt in his hand. "What are you _playing_ at? You left me without a fucking word, put me through hell, and now you're mocking me for it? For frigs flipping sake, you were the one thing I wanted to still _have_ at the end of all of this," He grit out, hands shaking before he slammed a forearm across his pecs like barring a door shut, Dirk's shirt getting yanked with it and riding up to the middle of his ribs, "The _one_ thing I thought I'd-"

"Jake." It was breathed out in a quiet sigh, Dirk's expression honestly stunned as he reached to brush Jake's hair back. It was still short, so it wasn't too unruly, but it was still stuck at an odd angle. He must not have gotten ready or styled it before he came over. He didn't know why Dirk left? Jake recoiled from the touch. "I thought Spades talked to you. I thought he told you not to see me either."

" _What?!_ " Well that only seemed to piss him off more. "Nothing he said could have kept me from seeing you at that point!" Pushing off of Dirk, he scrubbed at his face harshly, both hands running through the brunet mess on his head afterwards. "What did they do for you, huh?" He asked, looking around and motioning at the apartment, "Oh, this _lavish_ setup?" The word was spit out, "Money? An assurance not to restart your contract? What did they give you to force my hand in lament without a hint of warning?"

"Lament?" Bro parroted, those damn pale brows tugging together in genuine confusion as he tried to see what Jake was playing at. Fuck, he hated mindgames and he hated not understanding a situation twice as much."What are you talking?"

"I- I _mourned_ over you, you twat." Saying the words, the realization actually sunk in that wow. This was _Dirk_. Dirk Strider, the same one that he'd been so crazy for. The same he'd....

"Mourned?"

"You died, Dirk. At least to me."

" _What?_ " Now it was Dirk's turn to sound indignant, causing Jake's new assurance of Dirk's living status to be tinted with confusion at how honestly stupefied Dirk looked.

"You let me think you were dead. You contract ended, Spade told me you died on your last case."

"Jake what the hell are you talkin' about? They told me I wasn't allowed to see you anymore, didn't they tell-"

That caused Jake to immediately narrow his eyes, disbelief obvious, "Oh really?"

"Yes," Dirk said in return. Tugging his shirt back into place, he straightened his stance a little, English unmoving."I thought they told you the same thing."

Unmoving until he said _that_ , that is. The assassin clapped his hands together sarcastically, looking almost delirious as he feigned happiness, tipping back a fraction of an inch for enunciation. "That's such a magnificent epiphany! Oh, happy day, you didn't actually abandon me, you were just chided at by our boss and told to step off, silly me! That's not horribly convenient at _all_." The smile and Jake's brow fell in unison.

"Wow dude, I'm sensin' a bit of sarcasm there," The blond stated flatly, watching Jake's face harden in annoyance.

"What gave it away?"

"Christ, English, I get it, you're mad, but they told me-"

"You know the hardest thing to wrap my noggin around in all the malarkey you're spewing? That you actually listened to Spade, for once, about _this_." Motioning between the two of them, he threw an exhausted wave away from himself, breaking his stare with Dirk as he shook his head, "Anything else, you would have told him to fuck himself with that ridiculous eyepatch he sports, but our relationship? Tallyho, have fun ordering you around, you'll just bend over and take it. Not that that's anything new for you though, now is it?"

"If I remember correctly, that's how you liked me best," Dirk countered, not sounding bothered at all by the rough words as he crossed his arms over his chest even as his jaw clenched momentarily. The rigid stance he'd had against the wall had slowly sank into a relaxed one, but even after all this time Jake still knew he was coiled and ready to fight at the drop of a hat.

"Funnily enough, I thought I liked you most _alive_ , but I seem to enjoy the memory of the Dirk I was with back then more than I like the thought of a Dirk that betrayed me now."

"Oh my god." For the first time during all of this, Dirk's annoyance was brought to the forefront, mouth setting in a thinner line than usual. "I was told that they'd drop the guillotine on your ass, so I fucked off. I wasn't even ever sure if you were alive, I didn't wanna risk 'em findin' out and you gettin' hurt because I decided to drop in and check on you."

"And you expect me to believe-"

"No." Shrugging, he turned his head to the side, the clean profile of his face ruined from the slight scrunch on the bridge of nose, a sight that was actually new to the green eyed killer. "Nah, I don't expect it. Want you to, yeah, because it's the fuckin' _truth_ , but I can't expect or make you do shit." While his head didn't move, the piercing gaze of the orange eye Jake could see flew to look at him. "Do you honestly believe I would have left without tellin' you if I could have?"

"..... I don't know," Jake answered truthfully, setting his jaw. It was a nice thought, Dirk leaving to save him, but- "You do selfish things."

A bark of laughter left Dirk as he pushed away from the wall, turning his head to fully look at Jake as he stepped towards him, "The only selfish thing I have on my record was bein' with you in the first place. If that's what marks me as selfish through, I'll take it. I ain't about to regret that for a second."

"While that would normally be a romantic answer," Jake started, holding his ground, "You have another one on your list. Not only did you start again, but you got a new partner. Besides the shot through the heart, it's a heavy handed slap to the face."

"I started again?" Dirk asked, gasping softly. "I got a new partner, too? Wow, I'm way behind on the gossip." Rolling his eyes, he pushed his shades into his hair, looking at Jake directly, "I ain't working for those fuckers again."

"And what's that then?" Jake questioned flatly, thumb motioning sideways at the red suit currently hung to dry near the laundry room, in plain few from his spot ten steps into the apartment.

"A decor piece. Damn English, all this time I thought you were the one who was good with interior design, but I have an accidental knack for it."

"I was sent to collect you," Jake continued as if Dirk had given him a real answer, "Slick needs to chat with you, and as for your partner-"

"What _partner_?"

"-you can either tell me where they are and I can end things peacefully for them the way I usually do, or you can draw it out and I'll take on your oldfashioned tactic of stringing their organs up like crepe paper."

"Okay hold on." Holding up his hands, they closed to fists, one finger popping up, "First off, it's called streamers. Nobody but Brits and Aussies call it crepe paper, an you live in Texas, so use the right terminology. Second off," A second finger joined the other, "I don't have a fuckin' partner, what are you not gettin' about that?"

"So you're truly trying to convince me that Heir isn't your partner?"

To that date, Jake had never been as surprised as he was then; Instead of more speaking, or arguing, Dirk burst out out _laughing_. Not chuckling, or giggling, but actual, full bellied laughter. This got Jake crossing his arms, but at his pissed expression, the blond only started to laugh harder, having to bend over a little to keep his balance as he wiped at his eyes.

"Holy toledo, I hate you even more than I thought I did."

Forced to wait for Dirk to get his wits about him, Jake was halfway tempted to get his gun again before he heard the huffs of amusement rolling to a stop, Dirk having to sniffle a little as he wore an easy grin. When he smiled, his mouth dimpled, and it only got the other man wanting to punch him right in those little indents. "Slicks intel says that _I'm_ Knight? The merc they have? Who's workin' with Heir?"

"Unless there's another D. Strider with mercenary history and an incredibly similar moves set and skill set, yes, we know it's you."

"Oh, English." Setting a hand on his shoulder and watching Jake's expression get impossibly more annoyed at the contact, Dirk's mouth wobbled as he bit back another bout of laughter. "I've got news for you."

 

-

 

"But-" A soft laugh, woozy and placid, left John's mouth as he was pushed back against his bed, a floppy hand latching to either of Dave's wrists, "But but but, _Jade's_ coming. I gotta say hi."

"Shh," Dave countered eloquently, "They gave you hydrocodone, buddy. You need to sleep."

"That's an excellent point," John started to counter, "But how about this; nah."

Sighing out a laugh through his nose, Dave patted John's chest once, pulling his hands away, "Great argument. I'll think on it."

Of course, the second Dave moved away, John was sitting up, wobbling again. The two seemed to be on even ground after they'd agreed on Dave teaching John how to defend himself. From there, all they'd done was get John's meds and head home. When he got there, Dave dug into the bag and passed off the bottle to John, who'd immediately fished out two white pills with red specks on them and downed them in a mouthful of water. In the meantime, Dave had grabbed ice and helped John to the couch, while Rose turned on the TV to a show to distract him and start up a pot of coffee.

It took just about 45 minutes before John had started laughing and hadn't stopped. Seeing as they were watching Mythbusters, there wasn't anything particularly hilarious about making a ping pong ball go supersonic, but apparently to John that was the single funniest thing he'd seen in his life. A quick google search informed a concerned Rose and an amused Dave that it was only the narcotic effect of the medication kicking in. Though, by the way the icepack met the floor and John curled up while laughing without so much as a flinch, the pain relief was working well too.

Which meant, in simpler terms, it was bedtime for John.

Rose had gone through the trouble of cleaning John's room, and while Dave thought this was nice initially, he realized it was probably because she didn't want him doing it and finding John's outfit for crime fighting if he'd done it. Smart on her part, and helpful too. Instead of tripping over all of the clothes John usually had on the floor, Dave was able to bring John to his bed without a problem, besides his friend being droopy and clingy simultaneously.

"I need to say hi, she's gonna wanna see me."

"John," Dave started, sitting on the edge of the bed, "I'm gonna level with you. Jade is probably gonna start yelling at you in a language I don't understand, and you're gonna be drugged enough that you're gonna start laughing even if what she's saying isn't funny. Now as much as I'd love to be on an episode of Jerry Springer under the headline 'Small angry woman kicks high cousins ass before turning on his roommate', I have to pass on it this time and make you go to sleep. It throws my fifteen minutes of fame out the window, but that's a sacrifice I'm willing to make for you."

During this small rant, John had already gone a bit droopy eyed, but when Dave was done, he gave a smile that made Dave think he wasn't tired at all. "You talk so much."

"Thanks buddy." A gentle push to his shoulder, and John flopped jarringly against the bed, starting to giggle again. "Please lie down."

 

-

 

An hour and a half passed, and when Dave came out, Rose was sitting with coffee in hand, wiggling each eyebrow separately and setting her phone down on her leg. "Why Dave, if I didn't know you as a more respectable gentleman, I would have expected you coming out looking debauched."

"Yeah, as much as I'd love to get laid by the epitome of sexual prowess that is John Egbert on pain meds, he just wanted a bedtime story." Flopping down next to her, Dave let his head drop back to the couch, rubbing at the bridge of his nose while his shades met his forehead.

"For an hour and half?"

"If I'm being fully honest, I googled the meme and started reading the fucking Bee Movie script. I didn't expect him to hold out as long as he did, he was really invested in the plot. Also a big fan of the different voices I used. Asked pretty good questions, caught any plotholes."

"If you have an encore performance tomorrow when he's still out of his mind, please tell me. I'm curious to see the illustrious performer Dave Strider in action."

"....... Yeah alright, deal." Turning his head to look at his friend, Dave bit back a yawn, "When's Harley getting here?"

Providing a tisk, Rose sipped at her drink while her vivid gaze flicked to the door, head tipping to the sides back and forth as she guesstimated, "Not sure. At any time within the next hour, I'm assuming?"

"The next _hour_? Holy shit, I barely slept the entire time John was at the hospital, now I have to stay up a whole 'nother hour?" It was only halfway serious, the blond boy just sort of giving a sigh and shifting in his seat, "Paging Doc Lalonde, I need a Red Bull and a Will To Live, stat. Throw in three Five Hour Energys and we may just live through this. Now where are the markers? I'm gonna to make a 'Welcome to Hell' sign for Jade and duct-tape it to the door."

"A sign? That's so sweet!" A voice boomed right behind his head, Rose's smile falling from demure to tickled pink as Dave jumped, shades clattering as he scrambled to sit up. Jade wasn't about to let that happen though, her arms wrapping around his neck and shoulders as she squeezed him in a hug from behind, leaning over the back of the sofa. "Did you hear that Rose? He wanted to make me a sign, that's the nicest thing he's ever done for me."

"You're speaking for the both of us." Looking at the still scuttling Texan with a faux frown, Rose pouted, "Why didn't I get a sign? I may have shown up unannounced, but I'm hurt, David."

"I hate you both _so_ much," Dave promised, heart still beating out a rapid tattoo in his chest from the sheer terror at having Jade appearing out of absolutely nowhere. He was used to John's pranks, but damn, Rose had a talent of getting his guard down. Rose must have snuck her in during story time, the devil.

Wait though, there was one good part of this.

Turning in Jade's grip, Dave wrapped his arms around her frame and hauled her over the back of the couch, getting a squeal of laughter from the islander and a yap of it from Rose, who got pinned under the two of them as Dave dropped them on her. "Oh my god Rose, he's actually strong, abort the prank, abort!"

"Dave? Strong?" Even with the combined weight of two of her three best friends, Rose tried to sound aloof, tone a bit winded as she patted Jade's head, "We could take him easily, darling, you're just easy to pick up."

"Y'know, this is an awful first impression," Dave chided from above the pair, red eyes narrowing and watching Jade match the challenging gaze.

"Says the person who manhandled me over the couch," She combated.

"And pinned me with her," Rose interjected.

"Oh you guys don't like being pinned?" Feigning surprise, Dave gave a nod, "Alright, lemme fix that." Flopping dead weight on the pair of them, Jade snorted while Rose gave an exhausted sigh, wiggling her hand free to pat Dave's back.

"Alright Rose, we kinda deserved that one," She wheezed. Her vice like grip on Dave relaxed and slipped from his shoulders to his ribs, Jade cuddling the current lolled figure on her, "It's nice to meet you, Dave."

For a second he was really dedicated to keeping this up, but it didn't last long before he hugged her right back, hauling the pair of them off of Rose and listening to the blonde take in a dramatic deep breath. "Nice to meet you too Jade." Letting her go so she could sit in the space between Rose and himself, Dave crawled up so he was peaking over the back of the couch, reaching to fish up his shades. "When did you even get here?"

"About twenty minutes ago," She admitted, her and Rose sharing an idle fistbump over the victory that was scaring Dave Strider as she gave a smile, "I texted Rose first, and she told me you were still getting John to sleep, so I decided to surprise you!"

Scoffing, he sat up with sunglasses in hand, bunching up the bottom corner of his shirt so he could start cleaning them, "Surprise is definitely a word for it."

"Speaking of John, by the way," She started, getting Rose and Dave to share lightning quick glances, "I'm gonna be having a talk with him the second he gets up. What the _hell_ was he thinking, running into a fire? He may be drugged, but when he understands who I am and can count to five, I'm kicking his ass for being so irresponsible."

"I wish I had an answer for you on his lack of thinking," Dave promised, breathing hot air on the left lens before going about cleaning it again, "But I'm going to be teaching him better self defense and disarming techniques, so at least-"

"You're what?" Both girls said it in unison, eerily in the exact same tone, which got the merc slowing his cleaning and looking up at them. Man, neither looked happy about that.

"I- Hold on, nah, nah nah nah, this is my and his thing, you guys can't be forcing me to give that up."

" _Better_?" Jade quoted, green eyes narrowing as she leaned towards Dave a bit, forcing him to lean back, "Better implies a worse beforehand." Two blinks, and she pushed, "You were training him _before_?"

"I actually knew about this."

"Rose!" Jade sounded almost offended as she turned to look at her friend, the blonde girl having the grace to look a little ashamed.

"Dave told me a while back that John had been getting nervous of being hurt and not knowing any self defense," Rose started to explain, "So he was teaching him how to protect himself. Disarming techniques, however, were _definitely_ not on that list."

"Oh come on," Dave scoffed, both of the girls rolling their eyes and man, "You guys need to stop doing things simpatico, first off. It's terrifying, and makes me think you two Skype too much. Second off, the dude ran into a _fire_ in a goddamn formal dinner outfit to help total strangers without even thinking about it. If he ever sees a bad situation, we all know he'd do the exact same thing again. His heart turns five times bigger than his brain at times like that apparently. So, I'd rather have him at least have a fighting chance and walk out of a brawl instead of biting the dust because we wanted to baby him."

"..... That's actually a good point," Rose admitted, Jade's wide eyes moving to catch her lilac gaze again. Dave was assuming this was a silent conveyance of 'But John's a vigilante and Dave doesn't know he's teaching him stuff he can actually use in a real life against an assassin that he's apparently been feuding with, I.E. the entire reason I'm here'.

Or you know, something along those lines.

"Thank you," Dave said, "Seriously, it's fine. As long as I bang it into his skull that he's not some hero who needs to run into every situation and save everyone, then it'll be fine and he'll stay out of trouble."

Maybe it was that he'd done it on purpose, but Dave took hidden satisfaction in the way Rose and Jade fake laughed, but shared nervous looks at that statement.

Okay; he was getting over it and understood it fully, but seeing as his three best friends had been lying to him for literal months, hell, maybe even years, the youngest Strider may or may not be a little bitter over it still. So, he just played up his innocence on the whole 'I know nothing because you guys won't tell me' front and watched them squirm. It was pretty impressive, how well they improvised with each other whenever they had to work around a story.

"You're right," Jade agreed, sounding fairly convincing even if her smile was a little wooden, "I'm just being a little protective I guess."

"Considering you flew from Washington to see him over this?" Dave pointed out, "A little. But that's a good thing. He needs to have someone more strict keeping an eye on him; Rose and I are total pushovers."

"That's true," Rose agreed, "Dave even cuddles him nightly. I believe it further strengthens John's idea that he can get away with anything and at least one of us will be accepting of the situation, as well as a constant provision of a shoulder to cry on if he ends up in a bad situation due to his spontaneity."

"You guys cuddle?" Jade interjected, dark eyebrows raising as her smile turned more genuine.

"Aaaaaand we're done with that. So, want to hear me retell the Bee Movie? It was a hit with my last customer, and I really think-"

A loud ringing broke the sentence in half, Dave's brow furrowing as he moved to pull out his phone. Looking at Rose, then at Jade, and knowing that John was passed out harder than a damn ancient king still laid to rest, he aimed to fish it out quicker. Who the fuck would be calling him? The only people that did that were all in front of him.

Well, except-

"Hey, Bro." The greeting was immediate after sliding the green button to 'answer', Dave moving to sip at the mug of coffee Rose had gotten for him as the girls fell into an easy conversation with each other, seeing as they knew he was now occupied.

"Heir has a $40,000 hit on his head."

Cue Dave promptly choking on his coffee, stumbling to stand as both Rose and Jade jolted in surprise. A short chorus of 'Are you alright?'s and 'Is something wrong?'s poured out before he waved a dismissal, motioning that it'd just gone down the wrong pipe. Setting the coffee down and moving to the kitchen, Dave spat out the mouthful of coffee in his mouth into the sink and coughed to clear his lungs of the stuff, sounding raspy the next time he spoke. " _What_?"

"I thought you should know. Spades suspicious, and wants Heir's head on a fuckin' gold platter with an apple in its mouth. And, ideally, wants you carryin' the damn thing." Fuck. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ , how had John racked up that high of a goddamn bounty? And how the hell did _Bro_ know before him? "I got my connections," He responded enigmatically when Dave asked, "Now listen. You can't be seen with him again, you understand? The second you are, they sink their teeth in, and your buddy is traced to your house, he gets his neck slit, and you follow seein' as you're not only roommates with him, but protectin' his ass."

"How the fuck am I supposed to keep him from getting killed from people who _aren't_ Slick if I can't be seen with him?" Dave hissed quietly so he couldn't be heard, panic welling up as he thought of the goofy boy that he'd currently just recited a movie about bees to being on Slick's radar.

"That.... Is an excellent question," Bro admitted, but sighed, "I can get 'em to hold off the hit for a week. Maybe, maybe, if John doesn't work for the next week, and Heir either gets a makeover or joins Spade, he can avoid gettin' killed."

"How in the fresh hell am I supposed to work that out?"

"It's not optional, Dave." Bro's stern tone came through like a punch, but the next time he spoke, it was less of a bite, "You have to do this, understood? Figure somethin' out."

"...... Okay." Sucking in a five second breath through his nose and exhaling for seven counts, the younger of the two pushed away the quelling fear of what was happening, shaking his head.

No amount of panicking, worry, fear or upset was gonna fix this. He had to think. Dave just had to focus, and set out a plan.

"I can do this."

With Jade and Rose staying over.

"I can definitely do this."

And without even his Knight outfit, which was still at his brothers place.

Perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Thanks a ton for reading lovelies!! I will update soon. If you leave a comment, I always reply, and I will update within 2 days of replying to comments. The two go hand in hand hahaha. I really hope you guys liked it!! E>


	15. Midnight Thief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Literally forgot i didn't post this #nice . Also thank you sooooooooo much for your patience, and I hope you guys enjoy!!!!!

The warm pressure on his hand got John stirring, groggy mind leaving a dream of sharp sounds and bright surroundings as he started to blink his eyes open. Each time it happened, his gaze seemed to sink and fall out of focus and into darkness, making it hard to think straight. Though, the fighter could definitely tell that someone was holding his hand, causing him to open his mouth and let it fall shut once or twice. Ugh, the taste of morning breath was revolting. Though, judging by the darkness of his room, it wasn't exactly morning. That and the way his head was swimming, he was gonna take a wild guess on the fact that it hadn't been long since he'd passed out the first time, drugs still heavy in his system. 

"Dave," John started to complain, brow furrowing as he tried to tug his roommate closer, tongue feeling overly heavy and head feeling too light as words tumbled out without his permission, "Don't l-"

"Do you guys _really_ hold hands that often?" A voice asked, causing John's eyes to open a little more fully and catch sight of long dark hair and circle-rimmed glasses as his cousin smiled a little, "I kinda thought Rose had been joking!"

"Jade!" Her name was spoken in almost a surprised whisper, the younger of the two going wide eyed as he moved to sit up, "You're here!"

"Whoa there tiger, relax." Stopping him from sitting up too fully, she was still smiling, though something else flashed over her face, marring the happy expression. "You're still hurt, sit back."

"It doesn't hurt right now, though," He argued, words only the slightest bit slurred as he pushed to rest against his headboard. Light from the moon and the city was helping illuminate the area better, highlighting crumpled bedding where Dave had sat back and read him this awesome bee story and brightening the tiny world enough that John could make out his cousin's face. 

She looked so sad. There was a smile there, definitely showing the curl of her mouth, but she didn't look happy. "I want you to come home."

"........ What?" In all honesty, John didn't understand what she just said. The words had come out, but they hadn't come out _right_ , making them incompatible with John's current headspace. 

"I want you to come back to Washington." Jade was keeping her voice nice, calm, something that wouldn't freak John out and make him shut down. Yet all the same, his head started to shake back and forth, feeling like it was bobbing in a figure 8 while he gave a hum in the negative. 

"I can't do that!" Saying it as if it were obvious, he finally stopped the bobbing to look at her, motioning his arms out to either side, "This is my home now. Can't go someplace I already am."

Unsurprisingly, that sent green eyes rolling, "John, you nearly died."

"Your point?"

"My point is, this is _dangerous_!" Sounding exasperated, Jade crossed her arms, "Houston isn't like Washington. This place is terrifying, Rose has told me as much. You watched someone get killed in your first week here."

Wincing at the memory and at Rose spilling information she really shouldn't, John tried to scoff, "Yeah, well. I've saved waaaaaaaay more people here than I did in Washington."

"And you've also nearly died here."

"Yeah, _nearly_. As in, I didn't."

"Don't you dare try to paint some distinction between that."

"Well why not? I'm fine! Super great, practically peachy. I'm ready to go on patrol right now!"

"You're not fine! You're stitched up, and drugged, and too willing to put yourself in danger!"

"I can handle myself."

"You don't know that."

"I do know that! I've been doing this forever Jade, I know what I'm doing."

"Yeah well that's what Grandpa said, and look what happened to him!" Barking the statement out, Jade reached up to scrub at her eyes with her fingertips angrily, her voice having raised enough that it rang in the small room. Neither of them seemed to register that she'd been sitting up more and more straight before she sank back, shoulders hunching a little as John felt guilt hit like a train.

Jade had been living with their grandpa her entire life before he died. Hell, she was the only person there to find him, having had to spend all day and partially into the night looking all over their island and discovering a literal horror story. Their family was small, not much left besides John, his dad and Jade. While he loved their Grandpa, he'd never understand the fear Jade now held when it came to losing family members. Her experience was a type of trauma he prayed he'd never experience and realizing that he'd nearly caused it again, he leaned and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a hug. "I'm sorry." 

Feeling her hand meet his back before giving a pat that felt more like a swat, Jade rested her chin on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Jade, really, I am," He repeated, hugging her a little tighter. "But I still can't come back."

"Why not?" At least she wasn't yelling, which was a start. Instead, she just sank a little, voice quiet. "What's so wrong with Washington? With safety?"

"Nothing's wrong with Washington," He hushed, "I love it, it's where I grew up. But I moved, and Houston's my home now. I have a nice house, a good roommate. I don't wanna run from this."

"Then stop fighting?" Jade tried to bargin, hugging him a little tighter, "Please? You're all I've got left, John, if something happened to you and I had to wait on a five hour flight down here, I-"

"You'd probably hijack the plane and make it go faster," John accused, smiling just a little.

"..... Those are your words, not mine." Pulling back, Jade looked at him, "I'm serious. I have no way of knowing that you're safe now, seeing as you got into the middle of a _fire_. And don't think Rose didn't tell me about that mercenary." Sighing, she stared at the blanket for a moment, resting her thumb and forefinger on her forehead, "I swear to god you have the IQ of three Cheetos and a napkin sometimes. How the everloving fuck you got a merc on you after I specifically _called you about him_ -"

"Well hey!" Cutting her off and still recovering from that Cheetos comment, John pointed out, "He's not after me? I don't think."

"He's not?" Looking up, she seemed pleasantly surprised. 

So of _course_ John had to ruin it. 

"He's the one who saved me."

" _What?!_ " Going fully wide eyed, she grabbed either side of John's head, forcing eye contact, "Are you fucking insane?! You put your life in the hands of a literal killer?! One that you've been threatened by before?!" Each statement got a sharp bob from her movements, causing John to go a bit red in the face. 

"Jade if you don't let go of my head I'm gonna puke on your lap."

He was let go, thank god, but Jade now just looked really mad. "This is even worse. I wanted you to stop fighting totally, and now you owe a mercenary. One that you've had trouble with."

"Well. 'Owe' isn't really fitting."

"Why wouldn't it be fitting? He's probably expecting some form of repayment. He didn't have to save you."

"...."

Eyes narrowing, Jade looked at John as he ducked his head a little. "John."

Making a popping sound with his lips, John inhaled deeply, peaking up at her, "Yup?"

"He didn't _have_ to save you for some reason, right?"

"..... Let's just say theoretically-"

"I am going to fucking kill you."

"He fell off a building!" John defended immediately, throwing his hands up, "I wasn't gonna watch him turn into a pancake like Wile. E. Cyote!"

"That's exactly what you do!!" Jade's glasses were shoved into her hair as she pressed her fingertips against her eyes, "He's a killer!"

"Yeah but-"

"What 'but' could you possibly have with this?" 

" _-buuuuut_ he didn't sound entirely... wrong. When he described it." Thinking on that, his nose scrunched up a little. "Like his reasoning."

"When he described _murdering_ people?"

"Well. Yeah?"

Inhaling deeply, Jade swallowed before peaking out between her fingertips. "You. You are gonna go back to sleep, and _I_ am going to pretend that this is still the drugs making you say stupid things. We'll have this conversation tomorrow when you're a little more lucid, alright?" 

"I'm lucid right now, Jade," He sighed, tipping his head back with a soft thunk as it met the headboard.

"Shush." Helping John scoot back down into his bed with a soft huff, Jade tucked him carefully, "Just sleep, okay? I'll talk to you in the morning."

John really, really wanted to glare, but instead just closed his eyes, sinking against his bed. "Love you."

"Love you too," She promised, "Even when you try to scare me to death." Patting his arm, Jade stood and left the room, leaving John in darkness. 

Finally. Silence.

 

-

 

The next few hours were a blur of waking up, getting a few words spoken to him, and falling back asleep. Jade asked if he was hungry, Rose brought him more drugs, Dave got him a new warm blanket and water. Even up into the AM, which he was surprised by. 

The next time he really registered waking up was about 3:30 AM to a dull sound, his eyes adjusted to the dark. A glance at his phone (which had the screen dimmed, bless every god) revealed that his father had tried to call twice.

"Popular?" 

"Nah, jus' my dad," John replied, still feeling the exhausted effects of the last pair of pills Rose had given him. So much so that it took him a good three seconds to even register that someone had spoken, heavy head swiveling to look at the source. 

And immediately freezing, John scrambling to sit up. 

Knight was leaning against the wall next to his window casually, which was currently tipped open, letting in a slight breeze and noise pollution from the streets below. He was back in his outfit from the other night, the new looking one, without any traces of burning or ash like John's had been burdened with. 

Seeing him in the comfort of John's own home had him starting to shake, big blue eyes looking between him and the door a little too obviously. 

"Relax, they're all still alive. For now." The way that synthesized voice said it had John quaking a little harder, because holy fuck, Knight was in his house. Knight knew where he _lived_ , he'd seen his cousin, his two best friends. He could kill them before anyone managed to move a muscle. When the merc snapped his fingers twice, though, John's attention was ripped from him and put back into the red mans palm. "You and I need to have a little chat."

"How do y'know where I live?" Now was not a good time to be drugged, but John struggled to keep his voice steady as stiff hands gripped at his blanket. 

"Saw you in a taxi earlier. Thought I'd tag along, see where it went." Shrugging, Knight nodded at the hallway, "Didn't think Sunglasses McDouche would snore so loudly."

"Don't bring him into this." Weirdly enough, that came out more like an order than a request, but John just shook his head to send the point home. 

The laugh he got in return was a pretty empty one, "Someone's touchy."

"I swear to god, if you so much as touch him-"

"Relax." The tone was a hush as Knight waved his hand, "I ain't here to steal your boyfriend. The people I work for sent me."

Wait. 

Wait that was definitely not a good thing. 

His gaze followed Knight as he walked forward, the hilt of his sword visible over the curve of his shoulder as he stood at the end of John's bed. "You made quite the fuss," Knight continued, seeing as John hadn't moved to speak, "And like I warned you before, my boss doesn't like that. He wants me to bring back your head on a platter. Preferably the rest of your body on several plates after."

How had John fucked up this badly. 

It was as if he was watching his life moving through sludge in front of him, his eyes feeling too warm and his hands fisting up his his sheets. If Knight killed him, he had absolutely no reason not to kill Rose, Jade and Dave. They would just be considered witnesses, and even if they lived-

The girls would know why, while Dave would just be left horribly in the dark. Probably think this was just some sick act of violence, probably hate himself for not being there to protect him while John was still learning how to. 

"I don't think I'm going to, though."

The world froze. 

"... What?" 

"I don't think I'm gonna kill you right now," Knight described as if it were obvious, "I told you you'd get three strikes. You're on strike two, but if you wanna get on my good side, you've gotta change."

What was happening. Either these drugs were better than John thought, or he wasn't about to die. "Change?"

"Your outfit. Too damn bright, all that blue. That and I can't tell Noir you're dead with you still runnin' around looking exactly the same." Sound reasoning, and yet John still pointed out his own problems with Knights choice. 

"Well what else am I supposed to do? Outfits like that aren't easy to come by y'know. That was made for me."

Wiggling his fingers in sardonic jazz hands, Knight seemed unimpressed. "Relax, special snowflake. Give me the suit, and you'll get a whole knew outfit made for you."

Narrowing his eyes, John tipped his head, "Y'r gonna make me a suit?"

"Nah, but I know a guy who can. How do you think I got this, Ebay?" Motioning at his own suit, he crossed his arms. 

"I don't wanna trust your shady contact," The blue-eyed one insisted, "If you hadn't saved me, I wouldn't be trusting _you_."

"Yeah, well, you do trust me, so you may as well get your shit together now instead of later. In the meantime, for the next week, no shittily outfitted work alright? That means even if you bundle up your face and body in entirely black cloth, you can't go out crime fighting or anything."

Ugh, this again. Rolling his eyes, John opened his mouth to argue, but got Knight pointing a thumb at the door. "Want me to slit your roommate's throat?" 

Well that was a lot more effective than Jade's speech had been. 

Taking John's silence as an agreement, Knight nodded, "Didn't think so. Also, another stipulation; You can't be seen with me again." 

Scoffing, John assured even with a slight slur in his words, "That can be arr-"

"So I'm gonna get a new outfit too."

" _What?_ "

"I helped you save people." The statement was almost a little weird, Knight coming off as entirely uncomfortable as he shifted his feet, "In that fire. And on that rooftop. Just- Maybe I can sorta make up for it, if I keep helping you."

This hydrocodone had to be some good shit, because it almost sounded like Knight- "You wanna work with me? Helpin' people?" 

"Yeah." It was so weird, the man in red almost seemed embarrassed. "But I can't do that looking like this, my boss would straight up kill me. So we both get new digs, and start working as a team. Capisce?" 

Did John really want this? 

Having Knight as his enemy was dangerous, and something that would take years off of his life in stress alone. But working with Knight- Well, the moral obligation wasn't a problem anymore; he wanted to start helping people. But would he still be killing others in the meantime? Was this part of some weird balancing act? 

Then again, John was already on strike two, and even if Knight came back when the girls were gone, Dave was always gonna be in danger if he let him down and this was a silent strike three. 

"Capisce," John nodded, feeling the world tip a little to the left as his tongue turned to lead. 

"Where's the outfit?" Knight asked as John fell against the bed, jarring himself while the room started to spin. Either the drugs had just started to kick in or they were just starting to wear off; either way, this wasn't enjoyable. 

Oh god wait. Maybe Knight had drugged him.

"Top of the- Closet." Covering his eyes with his hand, John listened to soft footfalls meeting his carpet, along with the sound of rustling and the door to his closet closing. 

Then the footsteps were getting closer to his bed, and now John was much more nervous as his head spun. Getting tugged to lay down, he squinted at the mass of red in front of him, the color swimming as Knight spoke, a light pressure on his arm grounding him momentarily. "Heir died in that fire, got it? From now on, you're not Heir. No more hero in blue, okay?" 

Mumbling out an affirmative, John nodded, closing his eyes fully as his brain felt like it lurched suddenly.

Before he could focus on much though, the world went quiet and started back up again, Egbert passing out fully. 

 

-

 

Dave had taken possibly the biggest risk of his life doing this shit. 

Rose had dropped off meds for John, ones that Dave had so lovingly grabbed for her, and told him that they were pain meds. In reality, it was two daily vitamin tablets that Dave had grabbed from the bottle _next_ to John's pain meds. Hell, he probably still had a lot in his system from the last ones anyways, and Rose couldn't give those to him just yet. 

He had a plan to execute, after all.

So after that, Dave popped out for a few hours and said he needed to visit his brother, while Rose and Jade got ready for bed. This was actually true, his bro having washed his outfit of all soot and even patched up the burns, the saint. 

It was weird, how twitchy he was acting when Dave got there, but the younger of the two brushed it off. Dirk was wearing a collared shirt, and had said collar popped, causing it to cover most of his neck. When he turned just right, bruises showed, but they didn't seem to be from him being choked out or anything. 

Huh.

Point being, he told Bro about each bit of his plan, and how he really hoped it would go. Of course Bro said the chances of this working out well were slim to none, and he was a fucking idiot for trying it in the first place. 

But, he had told him if he could get John to agree to getting rid of Heir while drugged, he'd make the new outfits for free, so that was a start. 

When he'd gotten home, Rose and Jade were long since passed out while Dave's anxiety climbed higher and higher.

John's actual medication was given to him when Dave brought him a blanket at 3:10 AM. He'd helped him sit up a little, and got him to swallow down a few gulps of water before he told him he needed to take his meds. Still half awake, his friend had listened to him, and Dave had walked out feeling like this may actually work. 

Please actually work. 

John was long gone by the time Dave left the room, having to make it to the front hallway to change outfits and stash his clothes in the hall closet. Each careful step back to John's room was followed with a beat of silence, listening for any stirring in the house. When he stepped in and listened to John's soft breathing, Dave walked to the window and carefully pushed it open, his phone vibrating in his pocket as the sensor he'd stuck on there gave him an alert. At least it worked. 

So he leaned on the wall, cleared his throat, and watched John start to stir. 

He was pretending to break into his own house, as a killer, to scare his roommate into pairing up with him so the dude wouldn't end up dead from a $40,000 hit on his head. 

This was insane.

The drugs took thirty minutes to kick in, and John had taken them twenty minutes ago, meaning this was showtime.

Ten minutes and a hell of a conversation later, John's already partially drugged and sleepy system performed beautifully. When he fell to the bed, Dave had to fight the urge to go over and help him; Instead, he grabbed Heir's outfit, checking to make sure it was all together, and began to walk away. 

Though with the way John was still shaking and seemed completely out of it, Dave had to straighten him out, making sure to cover him with the blanket and setting a hand on his arm. "Heir died in that fire, got it? From now on, you're not Heir. No more hero in blue, okay?" 

Maybe John had tried to speak, but it came out more as a grumbling slur, his head falling entirely to the side before he fell back into a steady breathing pattern. 

For a moment, Dave stood there, feeling distinctly like a kid playing dress up at a sleepover and his friend had been the silly one who fell asleep early while he was still holding his superhero outfit.

Setting the clothing down gingerly, Dave carefully moved John to lay on his side in recovery position, just in case, before scooping John's outfit back up and bouncing. 

After getting undressed and into comfortable clothes, and squirreling the two contraband outfits away, Dave took a moment to pace their apartment. He'd texted his brother the word 'Done', and gotten the thumbs up emoji in response (the prick). Everything had gone well. Hell, it'd actually gone perfectly; Dave and John had agreed on new outfits, on working together, and he'd just have to start moonlighting as a fucking vigilante while also being a mercenary on the side.

Ah fuck. 

This was insane, this was insane, this was- 

"Dave?" 

The soft voice from the hallway got Dave's head snapping to attention, red eyes settling on Jade's small figure. She seemed to be watching him, looking vaguely concerned as he paused mid-stride. "You okay?"

"I uh-" What could he really say? No? He was awake at nearly 4 AM mumbling and pacing in boxers and a hoodie big enough to reach his thighs. "A little stressed, I guess."

"Yeah," She huffed, leaning on the archway momentarily, "... Over John?" 

This, Dave could work with. "I worry about 'im, is all."

Earning a small smile at that, Jade walked over, opening up her arms and pairing it with a little finger wiggle that got the unshaded Strider smiling right back. He leaned in and wrapped her up in a hug, lifting her off her feet as she wound her arms around his neck. "Me too," She assured, letting her feet swing a little, "Think you can try to keep an eye on him, after I go back? He seems pretty set on staying." 

Giving a long suffering sigh, Dave spun her just a little and listened to her laugh, feeling a tightness in his chest unwind a little. That was his focus on this; He had to protect John. "Yeah, I think I can manage that." 

"Good," She hummed, squirming impossibly closer, "Because he's stupid, and needs it."

Earning a chuckle at that, Dave nodded, leaning down to set her feet back on the ground, "That's pretty true."

"You're also stupid," She started, pulling back and patting his cheek, "Mr.I-Hold-John-Egberts-Hand-And-Take-Him-On-Dates-But-I'm-In-Denial."

"Whoa hey now." Turning and sticking his tongue out so she'd move her hand way, he bounced his brows, listening to her make a grossed out noise before she pulled away, "None of them were formal dates, thanks."

Hearing that, she paused on wiping off her palm on her shirt, instead looking up at him, "Is that the reasoning you're using?"

"Yeah well." Cheeks coloring even in the blue moonlight illuminating the room, Dave sighed, "It doesn't really matter in the end of it all does it?"

"You don't think so?" She was asking honestly, her arms wrapping neatly together. 

"Oh please." This was so weird, talking about this out loud, but the only person who knew currently was Bro and that was absolutely killing him. His brother wasn't someone he trusted with relationship advice at all (not that he was getting advice), and Jade was a lot nicer about this than Rose was. 

Currently, Rose had her work cut out for her making sure that John didn't die. Now Jade was relieving some of that stress, but at the same time, it's not like he could talk to Egbert about this. 

"Don't 'oh please' me!" Jade said, tapping his arm, "Have you talked to him about it?"

"Are you crazy? No I haven't talked to him about it, he's been in the goddamn hospital. Not about to cruise in and go 'Yo Egbert I know you've got more metal in you than a body shop right now but I'm real damn keen to get up on that. Lemme know when you're healed up so I can start to date the fuck out of you, first and foremost impressing you with my impeccable timing skills'."

"So why didn't you tell him before the fire?" 

"I didn't realize I was in such a rush," He responded easily, putting a hand on his chest, "Who knew I was running so short on time."

"Dave."

"Jade."

"Ugh." Running her fingers through her hair, she seemed to scrub it up a little before slipping a hair tie off of her wrist, beginning to put it up in a messy bun, "Are you ever gonna tell him?"

"I'm sure as hell not doing it right now. He's hurt, and I don't want to say something and have shit go all sour. Our friendship is so sweet Pixie Stix feel envious of the sugary goodness we've achieved. No candy in all the land, country, world or Wonka factory can compete at the moment, we've got a total stranglehold on the sweets market. Shits intense, stocks are going crazy, everyone's selling while the gettings good. I don't want this going all Warheads form of tart on us because I couldn't keep my mouth shut."

"Which I get," She assured, "But still. I think you should be honest with him."

"You sound like a character off of Degrassi trying to convince the main character of the week to make this episode more interesting because they already used up their school shooting and death of a main character story arcs two seasons back."

"That was way too specific of you to have not watched Degrassi before," She accused, watching him open his mouth to argue before shutting up. "My point is, you two seem really close! You don't have to tell him right away, but don't always assume it's going to be a no from him. You may end up like the character who was in denial the whole time and then regretted it later when they found out their feelings were reciprocated, but they waited too long and now the other person has moved on."

Staring at her for a moment, Dave crossed his arms, "You've got a point Harley."

"Of course I do." Smiling, she leaned to give him another hug, this one a little quicker as her messy bun bobbed when she bounced back, "Now stop pacing over him and go to bed. Check on John before you do though, I know he probably misses all your guys' hand holding." Beginning to step backwards with a large grin, she gave another wiggle of her fingers, getting a very specific finger held up from the blond in return. "Night Dave."

"Yeah yeah," He muttered, watching her turn and leave. "Night."

Damn it. 

Walking to John's room, Dave peaked in, if only to make sure he was still breathing. While his first round of hydrocodone seemed to treat him well, this one had knocked him on his ass, which made the blond worried about his breathing status. 

Padding over, he noticed John seemed to be twitching a lot, hands splaying and shoulders jerking every once in a while. There also seemed to be a breeze that wasn't coming from the window, but that didn't surprise Dave as much as it should have, or would have a week ago. "John?" Saying his name in a hushed tone, Dave reached out, touching his forehead to make sure it wasn't feverish. 

When John jerked into sitting position, though, Dave damn near fell off the bed, looking at him like he was insane. "Morning sunshine."

And when John stared, Dave had to stare back, internally cringing as John's tired hand reached up to bat at his throat lightly. he hated the things he'd said as Knight, and doubly hated how terrified John had looked. But anything less, and it may raise suspicion. When John was sure that no, Dave's throat hadn't been slit by the mercenary that had been in their house, and yes, his roommate was fine and in front of him, droopy eyes welled up, baby blues spilling over as John collapsed against his friend. 

"Hey, buddy," Dave hushed, entirely unsure if John would remember this or not. Though, by the way he wasn't really saying real words, and by how he was shivering even with the room being warm, he probably wouldn't. Beginning to rub his back lightly, Dave tried to listen to what he was saying, unsure of what was coming out.

"...doing.... to.... safe...." 

Yeah, that didn't help him. Starting to lay John back down, he didn't seem to be sobbing as much as just letting his eyes leak, gaze trained on the ceiling while Dave tucked his blanket tight around him. "I think you had a bad dream," He tried to sooth, watching John's mouth wobble into a frown as he shook his head. 

His statement was muttered, but still clear enough to understand this time around. 

"I'm doing this to keep you safe. Don't you get it?"

Well. They seemed to have more in common than they thought. 

"Yeah," Dave nodded, smile a little tight as John seemed to relax, "Yeah man, I get it."

"Promise?" John questioned, his hand scrambling from under the blanket to catch Dave's wrist. This got a nod from Dave in return, feeling John's drugged grip slip off of him as he started to doze again. 

It was all to protect him.

 

-

 

The text came at nearly four AM, Jake blurrily staring at his phone screen after it pinged. The message was short, from a number he hadn't had the chance to save yet. 

'Heir is dead. Knight is ready to speak with Noir whenever, just give a ring.'

Rolling his eyes a little, he managed to type out, 'You couldn't have sent this in the morning?', yawning into his pillow. 

It buzzed less than a minute later, the mercenary loathing to look but also too curious. 

'Eh seemed like an appropriate time to bug you.' 

Another buzz.

'So what are you wearing?'

"I hate Striders," he mumbled, the phone falling to the bed as he turned over. 

At least he had good news to pass along tomorrow to the higher ups. Knight would just have to hold out on his agreement to chat with Noir, go back to being his faithful, full time mercenary, and it'd be smooth sailing from that point on. 

Hopefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Next chapter; new outfits? A chat with Jack? Jade in action? Cool fight scenes? A really nice dog? There's a lot that could happen~~ Thank you guys so much for reading and tolerating how shit I am at updates.


	16. The Sun Maid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((It's a new years miracle, my god, this fic is being updated. thank you for your patience!!!! also i tried to post this seven times over four days and every time my computer crashed so if this sucks my computer tried to save u from it. There is a part of someone being hurt, so TW: Vague descriptions of gore. If you have anything you think I should tag for this, let me know please

"So are we just pretending this isn't happening?"

Jades words were a hush as she watched John lay against Dave's side on the couch, playing with his fingers casually while the blond repeated the riddle John was aiming to figure out. Her and Rose both tipped their heads a little to the left as John slid his hand to match up with Dave's, his fingers shorter than the blonds as the boys continued chatting like they weren't acting like a middle school couple at a lunch table.

"In all honesty, I don't quite seem to understand how it got this obvious," Rose admitted, her head straightening before she took a small sip of her coffee with her gaze flicking away from them.  She kept her eyes carefully trained on the TV, not wanting to burn holes in the back of the boys heads with watching them as carefully as, well, Jade was.

The two girls were standing at the island counter in the kitchen, the open floor plan leaving it free to view the scene in front of them while also having a counter to lean on. It was still morning time, and seeing as they all lived on a diet of take out food and black coffee, their breakfast had consisted of the girls going to make a pot of the stuff as John sat on the couch with an ice pack on his side and Dave behind him, keeping him distracted with riddles and stupid 'would you rather's.

While this wouldn't usually be surprising, John had both sought out physical contact with Dave, and Dave had accepted it with, quite literally, open arms. "The night you got here, his physical attachment to Dave seemed to increase ten fold, but it could have been happening much before that. I'm worried what would happen if we pointed it out to them."

"... This couldn't be from me asking him to move back home  could it?" Jade asked, the idea striking and causing her  to cover her mouth with her fingers. After talking with Dave about his feelings for John, this was actually pretty interesting; Dave says he has a super big crush on her adopted brother/biological cousin, now John's all clingy and hand hold-y with him?

This morning, when they'd all woken up, John had been all groggy and just.... acting weird.

A little twitchy, which may be the medication, but his eyes were bloodshot and he made sure to hug both girls tightly before curling up on the couch, staying silent.

Thank god Dave had managed to perk him up and get him to start smiling, otherwise Jade would have been at even more of a loss than she already was.

"It could be. I know the two of them are close, and they have been wanting to move in together for quite a long time. Maybe the idea of them being separated is upsetting," Rose suggested. "The silence and hugs may be a way of apologizing due to scaring us with the fire incident, but I don't quite know why he seems so stuck on Dave."

Frowning in thought, Jade took a long drink of her own coffee before giving a hum. "Pretty sure Dave's okay with this, seeing as-"

"Jade you are not as quiet as you think you are," Dave said from the couch, the eyes of the other three people in the room going to him. Rose looked vaguely surprised, John confused, and Jade embarrassed as Dave didn't even look over his shoulder. He didn't sound mad, seeing as Harley was notorious for not being able to keep a secret, but right now the blond was focusing on the silent one of their group, who still seemed fucked up after last night. Looking down, he wiggled his hand in John's grip, "Dude you still haven't answered; What gets more wet the longer it dries?"

"This is gonna be something really stupid, isn't it?" John asked, blowing a soft raspberry when Dave folded his hand over Johns smaller one while the girls started chatting about something else entirely out of respect.

When the blond had woken up this morning, he expected John to be a little jittery.

Maybe angry, maybe paranoid. Hell, he even expected him to try to hide it and act normal.

What he hadn't expected was for John to climb him like a koala finding a tree in the middle of a desert and stay there even with both girls commenting less than silently behind them for the past half hour.

Maybe Egbert's hearing was worse than his, or maybe he just didn't care, but Dave was also surprised that after getting so antsy when they joked about them dating a while back, he was so willing to have extended physical contact so openly with the blond.

It's not like they'd never cuddled and shit before, but that was usually when one of them couldn't sleep, or one of them had a rough mission that the other hadn't known about at the time. This was just seeking out contact because he was upset. Which, quite technically, Dave had caused.

Memories from last night of John thinking he'd died surfaced, and his thumb dragged along John's slightly darker skin as his own form of an apology. "A towel."

Groaning loudly, John flopped his head back, "That was so stupid, how did I miss it?"

"Eh you miss obvious shit when you're focusing on one thing too hard," Dave reasoned, John flinching as something in his wording stuck a little too close to home.

Shit, abort.

"Would you rather swallow thirty pennies and do jumping jacks for five minutes, or sprint a marathon with your hands tied to your thighs?"

For now, the best he could do was distract John from thinking on the impending doom that was the Knight situation, which ironically enough, wasn't even in Dave's control. Right now, he had to wait for his brother to deliver the outfits and for Noir to summon him to explain the whole Heir situation.

Behind them, he heard Rose and Jade leave the room, which was a goddamn blessing all on its own. From what he could make out, it was the pair of them needing to get changed into actual clothes for the day, which gave him a few seconds of not feeling like he was a damn TV show.

"What was Jade saying that bothered you?" John asked instead of answering, looking up at his roommate with a slight tip of his head.

"They're clucking like old women and wondering why you're being handsy," Dave said, which was still partially true. Lying was uncomfortable and undesirable, so partial truths would have to do for now.

A beat of silence, and John's hand slackened a little in his. "That's fair."

"..... It's alright, you know."

"What, me hanging on you?"

"Yeah I mean. I get it."

Eyes narrowing, John sat up. "What do you mean you 'get it'?"

"You had a nightmare last night didn't you?" When Dave had walked in, saw John still twitching and upset in his sleep, guilt had poured like acid rain seeing as his tricks as Knight had caused them. Getting called out on it, John sighed.

"How did you know?"

"I went in and checked on you when I woke up in the middle of the night." Immediately after saying this, Dave wished he hadn't; John tensed up like something had a vice on every muscle in his body, gaze snapping to meet Dave's eyes as the blond only had momentary confusion as to the strong reaction before it clicked.

Right. John would worry about Dave meeting Knight by chance.

"What."

"I knocked and shit, don't worry, I didn't wanna walk in on you and your right hand," he snarked, trying to dispel some of the tension in his friends body as he continued, ignoring John's disgruntled huff of a response, "But you were mumbling and freaking out, twitching and crap. When I woke you up you acted like I was a damn ghost or something, kept batting at my throat and talking about keeping me safe."

"Ah." That got John looking a little embarrassed, before he shuffled back a little, pulling minutely away from Dave and leaving the Texan feeling cold.

"It's alright, y'know. Bad dreams happen, sometimes they're so realistic it freaks you out. If you dreamed about me dyin' or something, I can get that scaring the shit out of you."

"Yeah well it's stupid to be that freaked out over a dream, right?" His laughter was laced with nervousness, as if now his actions had been called out as silly instead of something that was able to be justified. For Dave, he was supposed to think that John had a bad dream, and not that the blond had been threatened by a mercenary that snuck into their home and John was left constantly worrying about his best friends safety.

"Nothing wrong with getting freaked out," Dave promised, watching him move away. "If you don't remember, someone I'm kinda sorta fond of got really fucking injured recently. I get the 'being scared shitless thinking that your best bro bit the dust' thing better than most."

"You didn't actually die though. You weren't even close to getting injured," He scoffed. It sounded surprisingly convincing, considering that Dave knew better than that.

"Doesn't mean it isn't freaky. Look I'm saying that I'm good with the touchy stuff, I'm not telling you to stop."

"It feels stupid now!" John admitted, which got Dave huffing and reaching to haul John carefully into a hug, being careful of his side. Right now, Egbert didn't have anyone he could talk to about last night, and probably wouldn't be able to tell Jade or Rose without giving one of them a heart attack.

Even if he had to pretend to be oblivious, Dave wasn't going to make John suffer through all this heavy shit alone. Dave caused it, he could handle it alone, but he had shoved Egbert into this situation so his friend would be safe, and he wasn't going to let him do the loner shtick.

John melted like butter against him, Dave feeling his bottom lip wobble dangerously against the skin of his neck as he scooted closer.

"It was just a dream," He said thickly, trying to convince Dave but mostly sounding like he was trying to convince himself.

"It was just a dream. I'm not going anywhere man," Dave assured in return, patting his back lightly as John nodded.

Man this was fucked.

"Boys?" Jade called from down the hall, John pulling away a little fast as if they were gonna get caught hugging, "We should grab lunch downtown today."

"Sounds good to me," Dave called back, glancing at John for confirmation.

"I'm up for it," He assured with a little nod, before another movement got him wincing. Noticing, Dave opened his mouth to ask if John wanted more meds before his friend waved a hand. "I'm good. I just need aspirin."

"Not the hydrocodone?" Dave questioned.

"Nah it makes me feel too lethargic. Can't even hold a conversation with those things in me." Part of Dave wondered if this had been him conking out last night while talking with Knight influencing him, but he wasn't about to question it. Instead, he gave a nod.

"Aspirin it is man."

 

-

 

Dirk was hunched over a sewing machine all over again, listening to a lilting accent list off different colors.

"What about lime green?"

"Fuckin' gross."

"Oh I'm sorry, I forgot your costume that looked like an abominable orange Skittle was so much better."

"That shit was sleek, and we both know it."

"'Both' is a strong term, Strider. That claim is solely yours, and I will not be responsible for taking any of it from you."

"Eh, got me into your pants."

"Actually, that was your winning personality, chap."

".... Wait re-"

"No." Dirk's risen brow dropped flat as Jake gave a bit of a smile, still not looking up from the notepad while his feet crossed, resting up on the table, "I was horny and you were available and cheap as a bag of penny candy."

"Why did I ever miss you in the first place, English?" Even as Dirk sighed and scoffed it jokingly, he regretted it the instant the first syllable came out. Yet still, he played it off as he continued pinning together Dave's newest outfit, the scribbling of Jake drawing in an abrasive green color stopping for a moment.

"What was that?"

"Nothin'." It came out as a mumble, but not sheepish and instead more preoccupied. Or at least that's the way he was aiming for it to sound as he continued sewing, the needle thumping away as Jake resumed coloring.

"Good. Glad you didn't say anything too off color," Jake said in a falsely chipper tone, annoyance evident as the crayon flicked through the air and hit Dirk on the forehead.

Heh, off color.

The two of them were still a little bit of a hot and cold situation it seemed.

Jake had started coming around about three days prior, when Dirk started working on John and Dave's new outfits. The youngest Strider stopped by the day after he'd pulled his stunt as Knight and delivered John's wrecked suit to him. He also delivered the news that the guy was back to acting all weird and mopey but also clingy as shit, but it's not like Dave could really be surprised at it by this point; He had sort of showed up in the sanctity of their home dressed as a killer and threatened to kill John's roommate, AKA himself.

This was getting confusing.

Point being, while Dirk really wanted to listen to his sibling bitch about his superhero boyfriend, he'd rather slowly shove a pencil through one ear while watching Dirty Dancing on repeat, causing him to make Dave leave as soon as possible after giving the advice to stay by John's side through all this.

It was mostly to get him to leave, but hey, maybe it would work out for him.

The first day and a half had been shredding John's old melted outfit, and salvaging what he could from it. It seemed like there was a lot of usable armor, which was always preferred when repurposing old shit. Turns out kevlar was way more expensive than movies made it seem.

Then there was the problem of design.

Finding a design that didn't look similar to popular heroes from back in the day was damn near impossible. Not to mention he couldn't really use the color blue otherwise Slick may hone in on a new blue hero in the area. Half a day of crumpled paper and scrapped ideas, and Jake had come knocking without much preamble, walking right in when Dirk was willing enough to open the door.

When questioned as to what he was doing there, he assured it was only so Dirk could see what he was wearing, so he'd stop asking.

So, for the past few days, he'd helped design Dave's outfit, something easier with a lot of black and highlights of white, spending nearly the whole day chatting Dirk's ear off and driving him absolutely insane as he aimed to piss him off and insulted him like it was as easy as breathing. 

Dirk adored every single second of it.

They still had moments, like now, where the pair of them had clashes that threw them out of their relaxed groove, but that was to be expected. They had been separated for 13 years, both under different pretenses.

Which had also been a basis for an important discussion that they still needed to have.

"Are you sure you wanna do this?"

"Do what?" Jake asked in a flat tone, still sounding casually annoyed.

"Work with me, on this. Helping out the boys."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Because it can get you killed the second Slick finds out about it."

"Yes well, I'd be a lot more worried if I wasn't tempted to kill him already." Staring at his piece of paper, Jake grabbed an eraser, cleaning up a line before picking up a regular pencil from among the masses of drawing utensils on the table, "He did break my young heart by lying to me about something that was important to me." A glance up, and he made sure to tack on, "At the time."

"Do you really have to do that every time?" Dirk asked, sighing as one of the lines he was sewing went a little crooked.

"Do what?" God damn it, the pair of them were purposely going in circles, and Dirk both loved it and hated it.

"Remind me that I'm useless to you now? That you don't even like me? Don't get me wrong, I'm a big boy, I can handle it, but if I didn't know any better I'd say you were trying to get under my skin."

"Dirk, please," Jake scoffed, the blond biting back a smile at his next words, "You've always been useless to me."

Fuck he'd missed him.

 

-

 

Bro finished their outfits after six days and only some help from English.

He had Dave pick them up when Jake wasn't there, so the two wouldn't cross paths. That was a headache for a different time, but for now he offered Dave up a black and white outfit for himself and a grey and green one for his roommate.

"This one is actually flame retardant, just in case," Bro had promised, brandishing John's with a wiggle only for Dave to flip him off.

While he was thankful that they were done and that step was taken care of, Dave didn't like having to pretend to sneak into his house again and scare John a second time.

Yeah his roommate still seemed a little fucked up over that.

While he wasn't as outwardly clingy as he had been the first day after the Knight Incident™, it was now more rare for him to leave Dave's side. Which the blond wasn't complaining about in the least; It made it easy to keep his eyes peeled for anyone following them, but thankfully there had been no such cases.

Instead, John had taken to crashing with Dave on the couch, or just making Dave crash in his bed with him so he wouldn't have to stay crunched up and stretch his stitches.

At first the girls gave them enough looks to make anyone feel ashamed, guilty or not, but knowing the real reason to John's paranoia made Dave feel so damn bad that it was going to make him go grey by the tender age of twenty five. John was smiling more again, and could at least pretend he wasn't nervous, but if something was too loud in public he snapped to attention or at night he double checked to make sure everything was locked.

That was also gonna be a problem. He didn't want to scare John again, as well as try to set up a break in.

In the end, Dave had done something both genius and stupid.

He stuffed this incredibly expensive, time heavy, relatively amazing outfit hand crafted by his brother in a fucking Walmart bag.

And stuck it to the outside of John's window, having to do it in the middle of the night while holding his breath from even having to be near the open maw that led to a dead drop to the street.

It was held in place by a suction cup with a hook in it, the only information with it being a note that read 'Tada. Tonight, 10 pm, roof' stuck inside.

It was relief when the thing held out through the night. The next morning, when John started to stir, Dave stayed limp with steady breathing in bed, not moving even an inch as he felt John sit up. Then, his best friend cussed and scrambled out of bed, only for Dave to hear the noise from outside get a little bit louder as the window opened and the sound of rustling fill the room.

"..... Fucking idiot....." John muttered, and Dave had the grace to give him five minutes to stash his new digs before he rolled over, pretending to stir.

The outfit was delivered, at least.  And so was a plan for him to meet with John for their first stint of teamwork.

As he sat up, Dave's phone pinged, brow furrowing while John moved to flop back onto the bed gracelessly.

Tonight. 8 pm. Stop by office for further details.

Part of him wanted to groan because of course, Noir would want to talk right before he had to spend his night making sure John didn't get himself killed. Then again he'd been expecting this for a fair bit, so it shouldn't be too surprising. Looked like he'd have to stop by and chat with his boss about Heir before going to work.

At least he had a two hour margin, so he wouldn't be late. Really, what's the worst that could happen?

"Please tell me we don't have to do anything today," John grumbled, curling up on his side before Dave gave a hum.

"Fuck nah man, it's a lazy day."

"No it's not!" The call was from the other room, Jade's head peaking in with a bright grin and her hair in a bun directly on the top of her head. "Get ready."

"Ready?" John parroted. "For?"

"It's a surprise."

"Then I'll surprise you with when I get ready," John countered, not moving.

"Okay! Suuuuuure buddy." Giving a wink to Dave like he agreed with her or something, she disappeared, which just got Dave laying back down out of spite. The two girls came in roughly fifteen minutes later with the order for the boys to get swim trunks and towels, both of them looking at the pair with narrowed eyes as if they'd gone crazy.

They didn't win the staring contest that ensued. Mostly because Rose apparently never needed to blink, and Dave's shades were on the bedside table so he couldn't pretend that he didn't either.

When John and Dave finally relented and started to get up, the girls more or less presented the idea of going to the beach for the day. An hour long drive, and they could spend most of the day in the ocean. Jade pointed out John could even swim as long as they wrapped up his burn well enough. Her claim that the 'ocean water will be so good on your side too!' didn't go unheard either, the idea tempting him further.

The only one massively resilient to the thought was Dave, who wanted to sleep and be distracted from the prospect of work that night

Three sets of puppy dog eyes turned on Dave, and he figured out that he was a weak bitch real fast.

So, before 9 AM even struck, they were loading into Dave's shitty car with a bag of sandwiches made by Dave and a six pack of water that was grabbed at the gas station next to the parking garage.

The girls had set up the day for it to hopefully help John relax; anyone with eyes could tell that John had been jumpy and odd lately, and both women just wanted him to unwind. Luckily, this seemed like the perfect icebreaker, seeing as John lit up like a Christmas tree once they reached the water. The only time he was ever even jokingly annoyed was when Dave caked him in enough white sunscreen that John could pass for a snowdrift, but even then he just seemed grateful more than anything.

Jade and Dave built a sand castle taller than either of them were, decorated with all the ugly seashells they found because the pretty ones were too rare to try to gather. The ugly ones 'add character' according to Jade, Dave just claiming there were shit tons laying around for his artistic reasoning.

John found a rock pool and immediately fell into it, wading in the shallow water before getting sides wept by a wave that crashed over the surrounding rocks. The other three laughed themselves sick at the fact that he hadn't seen it coming, but he and Dave got a wicked picture of the two of them standing in the knee deep water right as a wave loomed over them.

Rose got buried in warm sand and dozed there for nearly half an hour, only waking up fully when the tide came in and soaked her to the bone through the warm blanket of it. For being unhappy by the change, she didn't show it, instead letting herself slowly drift out to sea until getting divebombed by Jade.

They all ate lunch together, throwing a piece of bread to the seagulls and accumulating a small army immediately.

This led to Rose holding out pieces to the birds and watching them take it from her hands, while Jade chased them down.

John laughed in a way that he should have been laughing every day, the sound of it making Dave forget about the work they had in just a few short hours.

The girls had to have noticed the stress John had been basically oozing for a week now. That constant stress had made him less like himself, and this seemed to be bringing back the John they knew.

It also seemed to be bringing back the Dave that they knew too, noticing him choke on his tuna sandwich when a bird stole half of John's meal when he was turned way.

Maybe they'd both needed this.

Swimming, rock and sea shell collecting, sand sculpting and damn fine photographs kept the group going strong all the way until they were nearly back home. Jade and John were conked out with Rose leaning on Dave's seat, looking at him with a small smile as he drove. Of course, her black lipstick was entirely gone, seeing as it would have gotten scrubbed off by the ocean water anyways. Her and Dave's hair both looked lighter, but her skin remained the same tone it always was. John had darkened and not burned, thank god, and Jade and Dave had both absolutely erupted in freckles. "Do you think it worked?" She questioned quietly, a glance over at John filling in most of the blanks for Dave.

"Without a doubt," He assured, nodding along with the beat of the music quietly playing

"It helped you loosen up as well," Rose said, before pausing for a moment. "I apologize."

"For?"

"I hadn't realized how differently you've been acting until, well, you acted like yourself today." The words made Dave's blood run cold as he feigned ignorance, but he didn’t even have to dismiss her statement before she continued. "John's dependency on you after his accident is a lot of responsibility, and neither Jade nor I had thought about how that could be effecting you."

Oh god, they didn't think he was stressed, they thought he was _responsible_. How could two people be so wrong?

"Dude, I promise, I'm fine. I'm a little more focused on Egbert lately, but otherwise I'm right as rain. Peachy keen. Bangarang. Groovy. Stellar."

"If you stop now, I'll let the topic drop," She bargained, before shaking hands with Dave when he offered up his own. "I believe I'm ready for a shower and sleep."

"It's ten minutes to seven. How old are you getting Lalonde?" Relaxing when she gave a snort, Dave sank back in his seat. Rose went to fiddling on her phone, probably checking about things back in New York, and it gave Dave's mind time to go blank. From the warmth of the sun still buzzing on his skin and the exhaustion of a day of swimming making him heavy limbed, Dave wished there was such a thing as rescheduling with Noir. A nap sounded perfect.

When they finally made it home, Jade helped John up the steps as Dave scooped up Jade, who woke up halfway and immediately started asking if they could do the same thing again next weekend.

By the time 7:45 rolled around, Rose was asleep in the bed her and Jade shared, with Harley scrolling down her Facebook feed under the blankets next to her. John was also napping, the last time they checked, seeing as a day in the sun drains any and all energy from the human body it seemed.

While Jade hummed quietly and bounced her legs on the bed, Rose shifted uneasily beside her before going stock still.

A glance over, and Jade's humming died down, one brow raising. "Rose?" She asked quietly, wondering if her friend was awake.

Far from it, however, Rose's face scrunched up, the dream she was having too vivid to not someday be a reality.

 

-

 

_"You shouldn't even be here!" John's voice was sharp and shaky, hands shoving Bro back a step as Jade grabbed his shirt, trying to haul him away from the absolutely fuming blond. "You do absolutely nothing for him, you shouldn't be allowed anywhere near him!"_

_"I'd watch your fuckin' mouth," The elder growled out, stepping forward only to be stopped by a careful hand to the chest from Rose. "You ain't the one who raised him."_

_"Yeah, well neither did you!"_

_"John!" Barking out his name, Jade yanked him away, own eyes still teary as both men shut up. "You too Dirk! Both of you just shut the fuck up, okay?" Glancing around the rest of the waiting room, a few people watched; A mother with an ice pack held to her young child's head, an elderly couple with the man looking far too tired, a blond father and his two matching daughters with one of them holding a bag to throw up in. All of their eyes were trained on the four people in the center of the room, the yelling match having broken out merely ten seconds prior._

_"Right now, we need to focus on Dave," She continued, jerking John's shirt so he'd break eye contact._

_"Can't focus on him if we ain't even allowed to see him," Bro argued, glancing  back at the double doors of the OR before shooting daggers at John, "And it may come as a surprise to you, kid, but they called me first for a reason."_

_"Maybe they were looking for the source of this," John mocked back, not even flinching as Bro tensed up. For a mere moment, Rose wondered if he was gonna slap John, and on top of it, she couldn't help but think that he may deserve it. Honestly, it was like he was poking a bear with a red hot iron. "Wouldn't be the first time you've landed him here."_

_Inhaling deeply, the scarred up adult crossed his arms, displaying a ridiculous tattoo that appeared to be similar to Dave's old comic character, Sweet Bro, high on his upper arm. A pause, Bro looking like he was mumbling out a count from one to_ ten, _before he swallowed and spoke. "Do you really think spittin' insults at me in a hospital is gonna do you any good right now?"_

_Looking at him for a moment before looking away, John just scrubbed at his eyes angrily, staying quiet._

_"Well?" Bro pushed, huffing through his nose when he was met with silence. "Because if I remember correctly, and I do, I was here an hour before you were. The girls were here an hour before you were. Was whatever you were doing that damn important?"_

_"Bro-" Jade started softly, but John cut in._

_"You know the answer is gonna be no."_

_"Then why the fuck are you bitin' my head off like I don't care? I get a call saying he was found dumped in some fuckin' alley_ fulla _holes and I dropped what I was doing. What about you?"_

_"Stop it," Rose ordered, watching John's hands clench up as Bro's jaw seized. "Both of you stop it right now. Attacking each other like dogs_ isn't _going to help anyone right now, it is only going to make us more anxious. For all we know, Dave is just f-"_

_A loud sound rang through the OR next to them, every head in the waiting room snapping to watch as two nurses and another doctor poured in from another hallway, heading towards the only occupied surgery._

_"What's going on?" John questioned softly, starting to walk towards the doors and not being stopped. They were swinging so wide from the force that they were shoved open with, that it gave all of them a clear view, but John the clearest as the world went too slow._

_He caught sight of whispy blond hair and someone in scrubs and a medical mask with their hands on Dave's chest, pressing down to the beat of a stupid BeeGees song while another shoved a tube down his throat. He watched as someone put orange squares on a torso that had holes stuffed with gauze and was caked in blood and scar tissue, his entire body not moving by itself while a nurse rubbed together two metal paddles._

_The monitor John caught sight of through the swinging doors was a flat line, his knees buckling before they met the ground._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((I apologize if any of the pacing or anything seems off, i am so far out of practice. But! Thank you for being so incredibly patient with me, smooches to each and every one of you! If you see any mistakes, please let me know! ily all sm


	17. The All Seer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Hello! It's been over a year since this updated so if it seems like a different writing style it's because it really is. But uh. Yeah! I hope you guys enjoy! Also TW: for explicit violence, it gets pretty descriptive. So tread lightly my friends

**Target: Knight**  
**Real Name: David Strider**  
**Assets: Swordplay, Agility, Overall Covert Training**  
**Alliance: None**  
**Employer: Previously Noir**

The hit had been put out after four days of English not returning the Strider to the current Noir headquarters. Either the man had gone AWOL or he had explained the situation to the Strider and the man himself had chosen not to come in. No matter what, it was settled that this was far too much of a security risk. 

Some internet speculation was already guessing that Knight was a part of a greater organization, the facts of his victims being pointed out and showing that they all seemed to have qualms with a very tight knit group of people. Upon further investigation and seeing that he had been caught saving Heir twice, it was enough for Slick to insist that he had become a true liability. 

While Noir hated seeing a good employee go to waste, there was no reason to save one person and put the rest of the company at stake 

"Should we have the resources," Noir drawled as he signed the death warrant out for Knight, his gaze flicked up to Slick. The man seemed far too excited at the prospect of putting a hit out on the younger Strider, but then again he'd never been a fan of the brothers, "Do make sure we get English in here for questioning. His lack of a response is troubling, to say in the least." 

The text was sent in the morning time, the same message it always was. 

**Tonight. 8 pm. Stop by office for further details.**

"Such a pity," Noir mumbled, pressing send. 

 

-

At 7:54 PM that night, Rose awoke screaming.

It had come out of nowhere; Jade laying on her stomach in bed, scrolling through Twitter and humming softly as she kicked her legs when it happened.

Rose had been sleeping so peacefully, and suddenly she was screaming and sitting up and looking around wildly and-

"Dave." She said the name while Jade was jerking to sit up, about to start comforting her when she saw that pale purple eyes were welled up.

"R- Whoa, honey, are you crying?" She asked softly, concern obvious as she scooted closer. Rose hadn't so much as shifted too quickly for the few nights that they'd shared a bed, and now she looked absolutely rattled, lithe hands tugging the blankets off of herself.

"Where's Dave?" Rose repeated, scrambling out of bed. She was wearing a tee shirt and comfortable sleep shorts, something so casual for such a put together person, bare feet padding across the carpet as Jade moved to follow.

"Probably out on the couch? Rose, honey, I think you need to take a second. It was just a bad drea-"

"No!" Snapping the word out, Rose turned on heel, looking at Jade with crazed eyes and a shaking frame as her words became tighter the more she spoke. "These aren't _dreams_ , and this one was different. I have to tell him, I can't stay quiet this time. Dave's in danger." 

"Danger?" Jade parroted, only going further wide eyed when Rose had to scrub at her eyes to see better. Rose never cried.

Nodding, Rose didn't care about explaining at the moment. Instead, she moved quickly, scrambling to get out of the room before her trek was impeded by the darkness of the apartment. Flicking on the lights, she stopped cold in her tracks when she saw the couch empty, window open so the sounds of the streets below could pour through the screen and gave a light breeze. 

"Go get John," She ordered in a voice that left no room for argument, turning back to run to their room and grab her phone. Shaking hands flicked through her contacts and found Dave's number, but she let out a sound of pure distress when it went right to his voicemail. 

"John's out on patrol!" Jade called from the other room, Rose's lungs restricting as panic settled over her like a glass filled shower. The green eyed girl bounded back in with a small note, writing plain and simple and painfully John. 

_Headed out early! Be back by midnight!_

Next she tried John's number.

Same response. 

"Jade! Do you have Dave's brothers number?" 

 

-

Maybe Dave was going crazy, but the new headquarters of Noir's group seemed a little barren.

Usually they chose something nice and in the open; A school, old folks home, hospice care. Always something that people would be willing to donate to and not look too much into, seeing as it would be damn near heartless to use it as a front for a crime syndicate. 

Then again, Jack Noir didn't have a heart, according to popular belief. 

This time, though, the place he'd been redirected to was some sort of shut down whole foods store. Even approaching it from the back doors, feet quiet as he tried to readjust to the skin tight hold of the red uniform, his metaphorical hackles began to raise. 

He'd keep up the Knight shtick, apologize and duck his head to Noir real quick, and then pick up on working with John when he was out of the red. He even had his new outfit stored about a block from here, some loose bricks making a decent cubby. God he couldn't believe he was gonna become a part time vigilante. 

All he had to do was hope that Rose, Jade and John wouldn't notice his current lack of a' job' for too much longer. 

The alley leading up to it all was thin, almost too thin. A width of three feet, with a small turn off to get into this decrepit building's back door. As he approached, though, the sound of gravel crunching behind him got him turning around, blade drawn. 

7:58 PM

The person standing there was, surprisingly, Noir himself. Dave had never seen him outside of the office. He was always behind a desk, and usually looking wholly unimpressed with the world. When he was standing, he was almost lanky looking, though no less menacing. Still, Dave's stance relaxed. 

"You're early," Was the only thing his boss said, tone light and eyes narrowed before he reached to his hip. 

Knight dodged to the left just as the bullet punched into his shoulder, smoking revolver still pointed straight at him after being drawn from a holster under Jack's blazer. 

The feeling was similar to what he'd imagine getting hit by a train felt like, if only much tinier. Fuck he hated Kevlar, but it was better than a bullet hole. 

Panic welled up as he turned, only to feel another bullet hit him in his lower abdomen, this one totally knocking the air out of him and getting him to drop his blade behind him. 

Why was Noir shooting? He'd shown up, ready to pretend he had his tail in between his legs and lie about the whole thing. And yet as his (probably former at this point) boss got closer, Dave couldn't draw up a reason.

Noir couldn't have known that he was still working with Heir. 

He had to think that John was dead, right? He'd been out of commission since the fire. 

He couldn't know. 

"Kevlar, and good stuff by the look of it," he said with almost an impressed tone, another bullet hitting the middle of his chest and knocking out the air Dave hadn't managed to even suck in yet. The off beats felt like someone doing CPR on him, his lungs screaming just for a deep breath with each shot shoving them out of sync. As he got closer, Dave considered if he should fight or not. Right now, his vision was going fuzzy from not being able to breathe, but he could still-

Another shot, his thigh, this part unprotected. The bullet tore through like a hot knife through soft butter, and Dave could only give a weak wheeze before sucking in a breath to turn into a strangled yell, leg unsurprisingly giving out before he fell to the ground. He could feel his katana under his thigh, blade not cutting him but making it an uncomfortable place to collapse none the less. "Not very all encompassing, however," Jack pointed out, tisking his tongue before promptly shooting the other leg. This time, Dave did yell immediately, eyes squeezing shut as the pain made his stomach roll. 

Heat was pooling under him, and for a moment he worried that maybe he'd pissed his pants from being this fucking terrified. Instead, he registered that it was blood. 

Right. He was bleeding. 

He was shot.

Dave was shaking, head feeling light from what had to be blood loss and raw adrenaline and the feeling of having been caught off guard as the sound of Noirs footsteps drew closer. 

Shot. He was shot, he would bleed out if he didn't fight, and Noir only had one bullet left before he had to reload. He could use this as a chance to attack, he could try to fight back. 

Was it worth the risk?

_If you die here, they're gonna know. They're all gonna know._

Hand falling behind him, Dave managed to find the handle of his katana, shifting like he was simply uncomfortable and immediately biting back a pained groan. Adrenaline could only help so much, because Jesus Christ, he could feel it. One leg was bleeding from the front and the back, but the second was just the front. The bullet must have gotten lodged. 

"For being one of my best, you have very little fight in you." Opening his eyes at the sound of the hammer cocking, Dave was met with the business end of a revolver's barrel, Noir less than two feet away. "Perhaps you really did know your place."

Grip tightening, Dave's arm swung in an arc sideways as his eyes squeezed shut, head ducking as the handgun shot directly next to his ear, aimed for where his forehead was a mere second prior. 

The loud bang had his left ear ringing, the sound of Noir biting out a strangled yell filling the right. Thankfully his sword had found the side of Noir's calf, which Dave's sluggish mind provided as 'even a small form of victory' before he yanked the blade towards himself. He must have severed something, because Noir's right leg crumpled like a piece of paper, an angry yell pouring from him the whole way down. 

"Monologuing should have been left in the 60's, holy fuck," Knight gritted out as another wave of nausea hit him, foolishly taking his eyes off Noir for just a second to glance at his blade, which was slipping from his grasp. For some reason, he couldn’t seem to hold it as tight as usual. 

Shit. 

Shit was dying, wasn't he. 

The thought felt like ice water pouring down his spine.

He looked back up only to feel something palpably cold in his shoulder, knocking the wind from him once more with Jack's face horrifyingly close, looking the angriest he'd ever seen him. 

Apparently, the type of bulletproof shit Bro used for their outfits wasn't _stab proof_. 

Great. 

It took a moment before his body caught up with the fact that he'd just gotten stabbed. Gritting his teeth, Dave shoved forward, the blade biting in more but hitting Noir to the concrete below him. His own katana was too long to wield in such close combat, but his body was still willing to put up a fight. Fist connecting with Noir's cheek, his boss snarled before the knife was removed, the feeling getting Dave's eyes watering before the blade was shoved into his side. It felt like it was between ribs, his breathing going all sorts of funky as he lifted his fist to slam directly down on the middle of Noir's face. 

Something cracked. Hopefully it was his nose. 

Two bullet holes, two stab wounds, and Dave's vision was swimming. 

His hand lifted and slammed down again, this time getting shoved off of Noir with the blade still stuck between Dave's ribs. 

Noir was bleeding like a damn sieve, making Dave wonder if he really had hit something important. He'd just been trying to stop him from shooting him in the face, but it looked like he'd managed to do more damage than he'd even hoped. 

Though when Noir scrambled for his gun, Dave could only imagine what being beaten to death with the butt of a Smith and Weston 6 shooter was like, using the last of his reserved strength to grab his katana. 

Jack's hand closed on the handle of the dropped gun, and Dave lifted his hand high, slamming the blade down on the back of Noir's neck. 

Silence fell. 

Dave's breathing was shaky and wet behind his mask, something that he ripped off with little to no thought. The Houston air sat heavy in his lungs, torso and legs oozing and pain becoming almost muted as the reality of the situation sank in. 

He was in an alley, alone, with a dead mob boss, and on the brink of bleeding out, in front of what probably was said mobs headquarters. 

Flopping back to the concrete, his body ached, a weak sob ripping from his lips. 

So this was it, huh? 

His left hand brushed over to his right side, hand closing around the handle of the knife still in him. Logically, he knew he wasn't supposed to remove it, that it was helping him not bleed out. 

But if he could cut this damn outfit off and die as Dave Strider and not Knight, he'd do it. 

Puling the blade out was easier than he thought it would be, which just got him breathing faster. He wasn't registering pain as much as he was registering being cold, and that thought alone was enough to get his shaking hand up to his shirt. 

Small, jerky movements caused the sound of material ripping to fill the alley, people still walking on the street on either end without a single clue of what just happened. The pants were fairly inconspicuous, closer to dark red skinny jeans that now had bullet holes instead of rips, but the top, gloves and mask weren't. Cutting the material off and removing his gloves felt like a damn marathon, leaving him to breathe far too heavily for such a small action, but he managed. 

The material, he shoved next to Noir, the final 'fuck you' that he could manage. 

Looking over at the mouth of the alley, Dave considered trying to crawl there for a total of about four seconds. It was about 30 feet away, and he now had four open wounds that had been bleeding for nearly four full minutes, leaving a damn fine pool under him. Not nearly as bad as the one under Noir, but then again, he was dead already. 

Was it worth it?

Rolling onto his stomach felt like he was getting shot all over again. His legs ached so deeply he wondered if all other pain he'd ever experienced before was even on the same plane, a strangled yell leaving him. "Halfway- There," he panted out sarcastically, hands digging into the ground and dragging him forward. The wound on his shoulder started bleeding harder, but a foot of progress made the effort seem less like the hopes of a dying man and more of just hope. 

Another scoot. And another. The knife was still in his hand, and he didn't know why he couldn't let it go. 

Small pebbles dug into his leg wounds and on his stomach through a black tee shirt, but the strangers going about their night were getting closer. 

He was only about 10 feet away when his vision started getting blotchy. 8 feet away when his hands couldn't exert enough pressure to actually pull him forward anymore. After that, it was scooting, which was even more slow going.

At 6 feet, he was breathing too hard to call out, so he did the last thing he could do. 

The knife was thrown shoddily out, clattering and meeting the open sidewalk and earning exclamations from passersby. 

Behind him, he could hear the tell tale creaking of a door opening, a low curse sounding before feet were padding up to him from the front. 

"Oh my god, call 911!" The person running to him screamed behind their shoulder, Dave's head collapsing to the ground. 

Pebbles on his cheek dug in.

Fuckin' concrete jungle. 

"Sir? Oh my god- Uh-" The person leaning over him sounded young, and terrified. A hand slipped under his jaw, the person giving a shaky exhale at the feeling of a pulse. Weak, but there. More people began to come over, some yelling probably from the gruesome scene of some dumb young adult with a bonafide blood trail leading him so close to safety. 

People were talking all over, someone asking if a doctor was present while Dave's brain began to shut down.  
"C-" Dave's throat clicked dryly as his eyes closed, the cold lessening now. It was more just bone deep exhaustion, which he chalked up to blood loss. 

Maybe he could fall asleep like this. 

Fuck he was so _tired_.

Those eyes snapped open when he was rolled on his back however, two people moving fast to remove belts and wrap them around the tops of his legs to act as tourniquets while following instructions of one of the people near the front of the crowd. Apparently someone was a nurse or something, but Dave's ears wouldn't focus with one still ringing. 

"Tighten it as much as possible- He's far too pale, he can't lose much more-" It hurt like hell, causing his teeth to grit, but his eyes flickered around to look for a further threat. 

When he looked down the alley, Noir's body was already gone, merely a pool of blood that looked like it belonged to Dave.

The blond glanced at that stupid Whole Foods building, looked back, and noticed his outfit was gone too. 

_They know it was me._

He passed out, a crowd of people talking while sirens rang in the background. 

 

-

John realized his phone had been left on vibrate about an hour after he'd left the house on patrol. Dave was passed out on the couch, Rose was asleep and Jade was going to bed soon, meaning that he had time to go out and stretch his legs in his new outfit if he wanted to!

After so long of being grounded, flying felt like absolute freedom. 

It was nice, just being able to lazily drift along, not so much 'out on patrol' as 'really needing some time to relax'. Dave helped, but John couldn't lean on him for everything!

Plus he was sleeping, so that took half the fun out of it anyways. Conversations weren't too great when they were one sided. 

He'd been flying for only about twenty minutes before his phone buzzed then went to voicemail. He assumed it was Jade calling, but he left a note! She'd find it, it wasn't that big of a deal. 

It buzzed again, but at this point he was closer to the ground and a lot more distracted as he kept an eye out for any issues. 

He may not be technically on patrol, but he'd stop anything if he stumbled across it. 

After that, he really didn't think on his phone much. It was on vibrate, and paired with the wind soaring past and the sounds of the city, it was really drowned out. Not to mention a total last priority as he basked in the weightlessness for a few moments. 

By the time 9:15 pm rolled around, John was starting to head back to where he was supposed to meet up with Knight. He'd be able to relax, have some time to himself, scroll through a few stupid memes and get to some- Training? Teaching? 

Eh, who knew. For a lot of reasons, his stomach was filled to the brim with either butterflies or Pop Rocks. 

When he finally settled down on the edge of his own rooftop, the now grey and green clad hero took a moment to breathe. Slipping his mask off so he could see his screen clearly, John dug out his phone and promptly felt his brows draw together. 

He had 15 missed calls? Two voicemails? 

Rose, Rose, Rose, Jade, Rose, Unknown, Jade, Jade, Jade, the list repeated like that. 

It started ringing as he was scrolling, and John pressed 'answer' before even looking at who was calling. 

This was fucking bizarre. 

What had he missed?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Wooooooooof it's been a long time.


	18. No Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Hello! This is actually one chapter that I split into two otherwise it would have been just about 9000 words and thats a lot to swallow lol. I hope you guys enjoy!!

"Where the _fuck_ have you been?" Jade's voice was a wet bark, angry and getting John scrambling to his feet from many miles away. 

"What? What's going on?" 

"It's Dave, he-" Her voice cracked, wobbling so much that it was hard to understand her as that fluttery feeling in his stomach went to his heart. "He's in surgery, they've been working on him for an hour and we've been trying to call you-"

Suddenly he could sympathize a million times more with Dave finding out about his own hospitalization through a voicemail. 

"Which hospital?" He asked immediately, jumping off the ledge of the building to get to his room faster. A free fall of half a second, and he pulled up fast, giving himself a little head rush as he stopped right next to his window. He quickly ripped it open, thankful that he'd left cracked for easy access, before scrambling to get inside as he began to pull off his outfit. 

"Mercy, down off Cliff. Same one you were in. John he's-" Her hushed tone got him almost dropping his phone as panic clutched at his throat. 

This is what he'd been afraid of since Knight got into his house; Dave _hurt_.

"What happened?" 

"He got mugged, or something. He was in some alley, alone-" Voice warbling again, she forced herself to clear her throat, obviously trying to calm down, "He crawled out from an alley, someone stabbed him. Shot him," Jade whispered the last half, like saying it changed the fact somehow. 

John's phone dropped as he yanked on pants a little harder, grabbing a shirt and bounding right back out the window immediately. He was still wearing the boot-like pant bottoms from his costume, but unless someone really squinted at his shoes, they wouldn't notice that they weren't your average sneakers. 

For now, his heart was beating in his throat, zipping over Houston like a practical bullet as he tried to get his shirt on. 

His window was left wide open. 

 

-

His feet touched down a short stretch away from the hospital, a wooded area that was away from prying eyes. It was more forethought than John thought himself capable of, considering. Though when he came bounding through the foliage with his heart beating in his head and his brain falling through his shoes, he couldn't do much than remember to breathe. 

_Breathe, damn it, breathe!_ His asthma was trying its best to beat him out, but even before hitting the hospital doors, he was using a forced breeze to get his second wind. 

There were more important things to focus on. 

"John!" 

His name being called out as he stepped through the automatic doors yanked his attention to the side, seeing Rose and Jade standing there with teary eyes and- 

John was feeling a lot of things. Worry, fear, anxiety, and the second he saw Bro Strider, _anger_. "What the hell is he doing here?" he asked immediately, watching Bro practically bristle as he approached the small group. 

Dave was in here because he'd been injured, and they called in the one person who had injured him more than anyone? Why the hell were the girls letting him _be_ here? 

"Hol' the fuck up, short stop, did you forget who the hell I am or do you need to get those glasses checked?" Bro all but growled out, his arms crossed over his chest. His stance was, to say in the least, tense. 

He'd gotten a call from Rose Lalonde just over an hour ago, insisting that Dave was in danger. She wasn't sure if there was anything he could even do about it, but even as she was talking at him on speaker phone, Jake was listening in from where he was sitting on the counter, eating a cup of ramen. 

The two shared a look, and English scrolled through his contacts, giving a 'casual' ring to his employer. If Dave wasn't at home, he'd be out on the job, and talking to Captor about his current hit would lead them to his location. 

When he was informed that their current location was some abandoned building, his nose scrunched up, and Dirk's stomach clenched in unison. 

It was too unusual to be safe. 

The two made it about two streets away after talking to Rose and promising to 'try to find him, shit kid, breathe for a second alright?' before they heard sirens. 

Jake and Dirk both ran until they saw an ambulance receding, a bloody scene left in the wake. The side of the ambulance said 'Mercy Hospital', and Jake and Dirk called a cab, the blonds phone ringing seeing as he was Dave's emergency contact less than five minutes later. 

He'd been the one to call Rose and Jade, to tell them. 

Jake had told him to go wait, that he'd stay back at the apartment in case he got any updates on anything from the corporation. 

His bulkier form had had to stay hunched over and fill out paperwork as he heard the ER nurses shout to each other, no doubt over the person that he'd raised since infancy. Too anxious to sit down, he'd waited and told the girls all that he knew when they got there, Rose looking glassy eyed and Jade shaken to her core. 

And now he had some little shit informing him that he was unwelcome?

"You shouldn't even be here! You do absolutely _nothing_ for him, you shouldn't be allowed anywhere near him!"

"I'd watch you fuckin' mouth. You ain't the one who raised him."

"Yeah, well neither did you!"

" _Stop!_ " The word was shouted from Rose of all people, who was white as a sheet and looking over at the door leading to the OR. Jade had been a half step closer to John, to pull him away, her mouth already open to yell at him and obviously startled silent. 

Rose had changed the conversation. 

_Glancing around the rest of the waiting room, a few people watched; A mother with an ice pack held to her young child's head, an elderly couple with the man looking far too tired, a blond father and his two matching daughters with one of them holding a bag to throw up in. All of their eyes were trained on the four people in the center of the room, the yelling match having broken out merely ten seconds prior._

Inhaling shakily, she pointed at John. "You. We called you for an hour, and you didn't pick up. He was here since the beginning, and he's the only reason we stayed informed. If you have an issue with him being here, then you will have to bring that up with both Jade and myself who can do nothing but thank him."

Egbert looked away in something that was probably shame, his eyes misty. He'd ignored those calls. He'd felt them and had been so focused on the breeze and meeting up with Knight that he hadn't been here for Dave. 

Her other hand pointed at Bro, shaking like a leaf and her voice having a sharp bite while violet eyes locked on his. "And you. I do not know your past with Dave, but I do know that you two have had a strenuous relationship for most of his life. Do not act surprised that his best friend may hate you because of it, especially being uninformed." 

The older blond had a cinched expression, mouth pressed in a tight line so he didn’t argue. Everything he'd done for Dave, he'd done to keep him safe. And somehow, the little shit always found himself in trouble anyways. 

That didn’t change how often he looked up at the OR, hoping someone would come out and give the all clear. 

"Everyone needs to shut up, and just listen for a moment."

Looking back at the door, her pulse began to race, a sickly sense of de ja vu hitting but not vividly enough. It wasn't the same. 

She hadn't kept it the same. 

_Rose had changed it._

"He's going to be fine." It was the first time that Rose had ever gone off script, and she was going to do it with vindication if anything. "He's going to be fine. He's going to flat line, and then he'll be _fine_." 

Jade went wide eyed and looked over at Rose, bloodshot gaze unblinking as she questioned, "Flat line?" 

_A loud sound rang through the OR next to them, every head in the waiting room snapping to watch as two nurses and another doctor poured in from another hallway, heading towards the only occupied surgery._

"Look away," Rose informed, seeing John's eyes glued to the source of the sound and refusing to watch him fall to his knees a second time. Reaching over, she physically tugged him, getting him to look at her for just a moment before she pulled him into the tightest hug she could, facing away from the door. 

Facing away from that horrible, flat green line on the screen. 

"It has to be okay." 

 

-

 

The men stood around Noir's corpse were all silent, looking at their fallen leader. Jack had run the group with an iron fist, keeping everything in check and commanding like life was simply a giant game of chess and he was the most brilliant tactician on the planet. 

"Had to get into it with some stupid fuckin' _kid_." Slick spit the word out, fingers wrapped around the bloodied upper uniform of one of their (previously) star workers. 

In his head, he managed to regret pushing Noir to put a hit on him. He never would have been so happy over it if he thought his boss was taking it himself. 

As of right now, they were back in that abandoned Whole Foods, which was a front in development in a less than stellar area of town. The front would be fixed up within two days, though right now there were news crews swimming around the area like sharks sensing blood in the water. When one of Slick's men, dubbed Hearts, had exited the building and stumbled across the body of his boss's boss, the only thing he'd thought to do was scoop up him and the scraps of material, the real evidence, and walk them inside. A glance sideways, and he'd seen some blond kid passing out in the arms of strangers, a trail looking like he crawled all the way there. 

What had been done immediately after Hearts brought the body back inside was him calling out for help. Slick himself had stumbled into what used to be the fresh produce aisle to see the boss he'd backed for years with a nearly severed head and unmatching eyes looking glassy. 

First things first? He'd grabbed some of the cleaning solutions that were sitting around, that they were using to make the place look presentable, and went outside, dumping them on every inch of bloodstain that could belong to Jack. 

They set him on one of the metal tables near the middle of the building, the sirens outside muffled while they used Slick's suit jacket to cover Noir's injuries. 

From the time of finding him, less than two minutes passed between the door and this table, what felt like his final resting place. 

"So." One of the men, Diamonds, spoke into the silent room, "How do we spread the word?" 

This in and of itself would be a problem. Jack had a very far reach, not simply the city of Houston. Sure, this was his home base, but he sent people to many major cities. 

The only person who knew the extent of this, after all, was Slick. 

"…… We may not have to." Hearts, Diamonds, and his other main worker, Clubs, all looked up at their boss. Slick continued, taking his hat off of his head and putting it over his heart. "We lost a great man ta'day. One who took no shit and struck fear in the hearts a' people that tried to give it. The second word gets out that he's dead, ain't no way ain't no how people are gonna work as easily with us."

"So we lie, say he's fine? He's barely gotta head!" Clubs pointed out with worry, getting daggers glared at him immediately. 

"No ya fuckin' dunce, I'm sayin' that I step up and say _I'm_ Jack. At least to all the oth'a cities. Our local crew can know, because they know me. Otherwise? I'm a ghost. Don't gotta lotta people askin' about my work because I keep it under wraps, and I aim t'a keep it that way. So, we keep all of Jack's operations in ord'a." Looking between the other three, he lifted his hat back up, setting it on his head. "He worked this fuckin' hard to keep this syndicate goin', and I ain't about to let it crumble from a lucky shot from a stupid fuckin' nobody."

"Speaking of that 'nobody'," Diamonds questioned, glancing back at the door as the sirens began to fade, "Ain't we supposed to do something about him? So much for a fuckin' hit, we've sent two people after him and one never responded while the other died." 

Clubs reached and smacked Diamonds chest with the back of his hand, "Respect our fuckin' elders."

Hearts nodded, "He does gotta point though. How do we take care of the Strider kid?" 

Slick stayed quiet at that, mouth pulling to one side in thought. Unfortunately, the kid had crawled to safety before Hearts had found Noir, otherwise it wouldn't have been a problem. Strider would have gotten his neck snapped, and no one would have been none the wiser. Now though, in the hands of a hospital, he had a slightly higher chance of living. Though, judging by the blood in the alley, that chance was incredibly slim. 

"We wait. Revenge is a dish best served cold." Looking back down at Jack, Slick reached out, pushing his eyelids closed. 

"The second Strider gets out of that hospital, via wheelchair or body bag, I wanna know. He ain't gettin' away this time, because he'll feel hell fallin' in spades around him."

 

-

 

Two hours had passed since John had gotten there. Slowly but surely, the ER waiting room had dwindled in population, eventually just leaving Bro, John, Jade and Rose by the time it was nearing midnight. 

Bro was pacing, damn near wearing a line in the floor in front of some fish tank that was either meant to supply relaxation or entertainment. John was sitting and staring at said fish tank, but at this point he was more likely staring passed it. 

Jade was dozing with her head in Rose's lap, the blond leaning her elbow on the arm of the waiting room sofa with her hand pressed over her mouth, the other hand carding through Jade's hair. 

_"What's that- Rose-" John had jerked a little in her grip, probably hearing the sounds behind him. The blond had only clung tighter, John's fluttery breaths coming in sharp near her ear. "Let go! I need to-"_

_"Oh my god," Jade's voice cracked as she took a step back, getting a hand set on her shoulder by Bro. He was staring dead ahead at the doors that were still swinging wildly, expression a type of blank that seemed pained instead of indifferent. Forced._

_The call of "Clear!" was heard through the waiting area, the doors already falling shut and leaving them all feeling breathless._

_Would it have been better? To leave the situation?_

_"Clear!" Jade put her hands over Bro's as his expression changed finally, mouth opening just barely as his brows pinched._

_Silence._

_"Clear!"_

_"No!" John tried to pull away, to turn around, but Rose hung on him like absolute dead weight. The last thing those people needed was John barging through the doors and interrupting them._

_She'd tried. And nothing had changed._

_She hadn't seen it soon enough._

_"Pulse 42 and rising, get me oxygen!" Someone called out, and this time it was Bro who sank to one knee, Jade catching his hand on the way down._

_John perked up, and now Rose only let him go to turn and see another nurse bustle through, those swinging doors showing a weak, but there, spike in Dave's lifeline. Rose's hands went to cover her lower face, while Jade gave the first smile since they'd left the apartment as she sank down right next to Dave's brother._

Since that moment, they'd moved further into the waiting room to settle down, assuming it would take a while. 

When a doctor finally came out and asked for, "The family of David Strider?" all four of them stood up, Bro and John offering the other a glare only to get the back of each of their heads hit by Rose and Jade respectively. 

"Yes," Bro said, all four of them stock still as the doctor lifted his chin slightly. 

"I'm Dr. Scratch, David's attending physician." Looking between all of their hopeful faces, he lifted up the board he was holding, flipping one of the pages up and over, "Currently, he is unstable," The doctor started with, ignoring the way all of their breathing caught, "We've got him on a steady drip, and at the moment he's still at risk for organ failure. He lost a massive amount of blood, meaning we had to do a few transfusions. We did have some problems with his heart failing, but we got him back both times." Jade seemed to lose all the color in her face at the word 'both', but the man continued on. "He was stabbed twice, once in the upper right shoulder and the other between his ribs on the same side. Otherwise, he received two gunshot wounds to his thighs, one in each leg. Luckily, there was no breakage of the bones, meaning he shouldn't be in any massive need of PT besides to recover the damage done to his leg muscles, but due to the shock he'll be staying in the hospital for the next few weeks."

"Unstable," Bro repeated, pushing his shades up into his hair to look at the doctor more critically, "Is he still dyin'?" 

"Not quite. He's getting closer to stable the longer he is getting fluids and the less he has open wounds, but as of right now we'll need to keep him under observation and put him in ICU under a medically induced coma."

"Can we see him?" John asked, jaw clenching and eye contact breaking when the doctor shook his head.

"Unfortunately no, not until he's in stable condition and we move him outside of ICU."

"How long will that take?" Rose asked. 

"As of right now, we're unsure. We will be able to reach out to his emergency contact when Dave regains consciousness, but as of right now we can't allow visitors of any kind. He needs rest, and our nurses need room to work."

"Is there any way we can add ourselves to the call list?" Jade asked, only for him to get an eyebrow raising. 

"We can make a note to reach out to you, if you speak to the ladies at reception. Any other questions?" 

The four of them looked between each other, before Bro shook his head. "One last one. Is there any way we can get things sent to his room?" Another headshake from the doctor, and Bro nodded in return, "Right. Thank you."

"Drive safely," The man said in way of a goodbye, giving a slight nod and wave as he turned to head back towards the OR. 

"…. Heading towards stable, at least?" John's voice was small, not very hopeful, but came out in a small, sharp way when Bro patted him on the back once as he walked past them, towards the door.

"Towards stable is somethin'. Knew that little fuck was too stubborn to die."

-

The ride home was awkward, in many ways. Rose, Jade and John shared an Uber, all far too quiet and the Uber driver seeming to sense that maybe this wasn't the best crowd to try to have a conversation with. Jade was still wondering how the fuck Rose knew way too much about the events of the night, Rose was looking shaken, and John just seemed out of it. 

When they got dropped off and made their way upstairs, John's throat threatened to clench shut. Dave's blankets were still all over the couch, sprawled at some random angles and looking like he'd probably thrown them off before getting up. Walking over, John sat a little mechanically on the couch, only to be followed by Jade as Rose went to the kitchen. 

They all needed coffee. 

It was quiet, bar the sound of the sink creaking as the water began to run.

"This is my fault."

The coffee pot clattered against the sink as Rose fumbled it upon hearing that, only for the lid to get flicked open and water to begin to pour in. "This isn't your fault," Rose said immediately, arms wrapping around herself as she let the container fill up. "This was a random act of violence. Houston's a large city, and Dave was-"

"It was Knight." John sounded so sure of it that Rose paused, but Jade shook her head. Reaching out, she set a hand on John's back, the other holding his arm as she tried to pull him into a sideways hug. 

"John, if you're still freaked out from him and the fire-"

"No," He interrupted, feeling his eyes begin to water again before he aggressively scrubbed at them with his palms, "No. No he knows where I live. He threatened you guys, he-" Voice cracking, he tried to inhale through his nose, instead sniffling, "He threatened Dave. I fucked up, I should _never_ have gotten involved with him and now-"

"Shh shh shh." It was surprising to feel Jade pull him into a hug when he was so sure she'd punch him, his head meeting her shoulder as she rubbed his back, "How do you know that he knows this place?" 

"He was in my room." Rose and Jade turned to look at each other, both feeling disturbed at the idea of a mercenary being here while they probably were, but John continued, "The night you got here. He told me to stop my work, that it was too dangerous and his bosses wanted me dead, and if I continued-"

"He'd kill Dave," Rose finished for him, only for John's shoulders to hunch, voice coming out as a sob. 

"I fucked up, I'm so sorry."

Jade looked back at Rose with concern in her eyes, the coffee pot currently overflowing from tap water and both girls looking totally out of their element. 

There had been a mercenary in their house, and one of their best friends was currently in ICU. 

When the two of them had started doing vigilante work, they'd thought they were helping the greater good. 

Now, John was sure nothing was that black and white. 

Had that meet-up that was supposed to happen been a trap? 

Had he attacked his roommate as a diversion? What the fuck had been Knights reasoning?

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I-"

Again, Jade shushed him, hugging him a little tighter. "No more vigilante work," She insisted quietly, feeling John shakily nod against her. "Never again."

"Never again," John promised, seemingly unable to stop the next sob that poured out. 

Dave was dying, and it was his fault. 

 

-

 

"How is he?" 

The question was asked the second Dirk opened the door, English sitting up where he was on the couch to look back at him. 

Tossing his keys onto the end table next to the door, the elder Strider rubbed a hand over his face, slipping his shades off and dropping them next to his keys. "Unstable."

"Ah, ICU then?"

"Yeah. Though they said he was starting to shape up."

"Stubborn Striders," Jake said, pushing himself to trail over near the door. He was wearing a pair of Dirk's sleep pants and one of his older tee shirts, looking closer to his younger self if not for the facial hair. The two of them didn't do the whole 'emotions' thing well, but there was no real conversation as English reached out to tug on Dirk's shirt, pulling him towards him and slipping his arms around him. 

Tucking his face against Jake's neck, Bro's exhale was just barely shaky. "Part of our charm," He mumbled into his skin, getting a nod from Jake. 

Their relationship hadn't quite healed, still filled with a lot of sarcastic barbs, but both laid down the verbal defenses for a moment of much needed rest. 

"I have news," Jake said quietly, but Bro just pulled himself away, not quite making eye contact considering his gaze was looking a little damp. 

"How important is it?" 

"Well, I can both proudly and frustratingly say that your younger brother beat me to a wholluping punch."

"On?" 

"He killed Noir." This did get Dirk looking up in surprise, only to have Jake with dual raised eyebrows and his own slow nod. "I know, I thought it was a total load of ball busting hogswallop, yet I was informed by a very reliable source that our ex-employer was found nearly headless and a _titch_ worse for wear than usual."

"No wonder he was in that bad'a shape," Bro sighed out, reaching to rub at his eyes with a forefinger and thumb. "Who told you?" 

"Captor, the mission sourcer. Seems he has a soft spot for mini-you, to the point of offering up trade secrets while the picking is good. Real stand up gent. He informed me that Slick is now running all operations as of a measly three hours ago, meaning your younger brother is going to be in a dastardly bind when they get the beat on him. Heaven knows what kind of a nasty streak Slick keeps with people who do him dirty."

"They'd never attack him in a hospital, there's way too many witnesses for them to risk that," Dirk tried to reason, only to get a nod in return. 

"Maybe so, but after? Hunting season, using the biggest boomsticks and the baddest hounds."

"This guy, Captor. Did he tell you anything else?'

Thinking back, Jake seemed to try to truly think on it, "Noir is dead, Slick is taking over, and he was sworn to secrecy not to inform absolutely anyone that Noir had been killed. That seems to be the main points at least."

Walking over towards his room, Dirk reached and scratched at his head through bright hair, "Fuckin' peachy. Dave almost gets killed now, and if he lives, then we just have to take down an entire underground syndicate to keep him safe."

"Sounds like a fun date-night," Jake drawled, following behind. When Dirk entered his room, Jake went and opened the window on the far end, giving the small space some fresh air as he pointedly did not turn on the light just yet. In the dark, Dirk all but collapsed on his bed, only to be surprised by the feeling of the mattress dipping next to him. 

"You stayin'?" 

Reaching over, Jake's fingers found blond hair, carding through and getting orange eyes drifting shut. 

"I think I'd be a terrible…… Whatever discombobulated term I am, if I left."

"So you admit we ain't enemies anymore?" 

The attempt at humor had Jake laughing, if not quietly. "Not quite enemies, chap. Now shut up, get some sleep."

"Can you plug in my phone? I need to keep an ear out in case he wakes up."

"Will do."

If he felt a kiss get pressed to his head when Jake got up to get his phone, Dirk wasn't about to draw attention to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((O: so much drama, my goodness. If only I had some control over it. This story is getting really long so I'm already sorry. But I can say! The story will be wrapped up in 7 chapters more or less. How long those are, that's up for debate, but everyhings coming to a head. Thanks for reading!!


	19. Sylphless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((One drop of happiness. This also isn't beta-read so I'm sorry about any mistakes fam

"-pressure- …….. Stable-"

Little fragments seemed to bust through the shell that had become Dave's sleeping brain, causing his face to scrunch up. Even that small of an action was fucking exhausting, leaving it to smooth out almost immediately. 

"-Strider? Mr. Strider? David?"

Ugh, not David, Dave. Just Dave. He opened his mouth to complain, but all that came out was a weak, hoarse sound, which got someone saying something in far too cheery of a tone. 

He felt like he'd swallowed a fistful of sand and had been baking in an oven for about ten years. 

Head still filled with cotton, he tried to crack open an eye, only to stop when the bright light caused it to feel like he was being stabbed in the eye. 

"It looks like he's waking up," A female voice said, the same one who'd been calling his name. "Once he regains consciousness, we'll move him from ICU to-" 

"B-" God, he was trying. The nurse stopped talking when he tried to speak, only for his voice to be a scratchy croak. His mouth tasted atrocious, so he'd been out long enough to develop morning breath. "Bright."

"Oh, Alana, please," The nurse said, probably to speaking to someone next to the light switch. Thankfully, they dimmed, if only enough to allow Dave comfort in opening his eyes just barely. 

It was still almost too bright, but a lot more manageable than the pain before. 

His eyes felt crusted closed, which got him worried about how long he'd been asleep. 

What had-

The memory of being stabbed got his heartbeat skyrocketing, to the point that the machine began to beep angrily. "Mr. Strider, are you still waking up?" She sounded mostly polite, if not a little concerned. 

"Ow," Was all Dave managed to get out. Really, now that he wasn't drifting between awake and asleep, a lot of things were hurting. His legs, mostly, but his side, his shoulder. His throat, his eyes. His nasal cavity, surprisingly, felt beyond dry. He felt like he'd been on the losing end of a fight, but only he knew better on that one. 

Probably.

Fuck he really didn't remember getting to a hospital. He remembered the tourniquets, but that just made his legs twitch painfully. Though honestly, the hospital got a gold star in his mind when the voice from before offered a cup of water to his lips, which he began to drink thankfully. 

Just a tiny cup, but it made waking up a little more bearable. 

Open his eyes, he was greeted by an older nurse with short brown hair and a nice smile, and a younger woman who was thin, tall, and nervous looking. From what her nametag read, she was a student nurse. "Good morning!" The older one greeted, definitely the same voice from before. All her nametag read was 'Dawn', though she seemed genuinely happy to see him awake. 'Dawn' was also the name written on the white board behind her; apparently she was Dave's primary nurse, along with some other name that had been erased at some point. "About time you woke up, you're as bad as my boys when they sleep."

"Sleep?" Dave asked again. His voice was rough from disuse, which almost made him not wanna use it, but his curiosity was too distinct not to.

"Been about five days since you came in," She said, getting Dave blanching a little. Five days? Looking around the room at the lack of evidence of visitors, her expression turned understanding, and maybe a little pitying. "You're in ICU, but you're on your way out if that helps. Meanin' no visitors just yet. When we get you settled into your new room, we'll be able to give 'em a call and have all of them come back. Your notes say we've got four people to ring, so you seem pretty well loved outside of here." Walking over, she pressed something on his IV, which got his vision swimming soon after, but thankfully not darkening. "You said ow, so I had to, I'm sorry," She hushed, sounding so much like a mother Dave was left feeling childish. "If you feel any pain past this, we've got a little button right here to help you. Otherwise, just lay back and if you need something, let either myself or Alana right over there know, okay?" 

As she went around the head part of his bed and took the brakes off the wheels, Dave could feel the pain ebb away as the bed began to move, leaving him alone with his thoughts. 

He'd lived. 

Holy fuck he was actually still alive right now. 

The lights in the hallway flicked past in a perfect rhythm, the blond watching lazily as he was wheeled through one of the wings. 

Noir was dead. He'd killed him, which should have had him shitting bricks. Instead, it just had him worried about throwing away the outfit Bro had just remade him. _This must be good shit then,_ Dave thought with a sideways glance at the IV, still having a hard time even moving his head. 

ICU, huh? Must have been in bad shape, and boy fuckin' howdy it feel like it. 

A lot of his brain was telling him to go back to sleep, but the prospect of not seeing his brother and friends wasn't an appealing one. 

They must be worried sick. Well, at least his friends. Bro would still probably be pissed about the outfit. 

"How long?" He asked, getting a confused glance from his nurse before he cleared his throat. "Before y' call 'em."

"Oh," Dawn said, sighing as she thought on it. That is, before shrugging, glancing over at the student nurse Alana. "Did you wanna start getting them called now? I can continue to Trauma."

The girl just nodded and shifted to grab the chart that they'd set on the foot of Dave's bed, hanging back and snagging what looked like a house phone from her scrubs pocket. Dave's gaze narrowed, but the nurse who was continuing to push him a little slower now just laughed. "Old lookin', huh? What I wouldn't do for more funding around here." 

As his nurse chatted on about the lack of proper supplies, Dave tried to breathe deeply to relax, feeling his side and shoulder twinge when he did so. All in all, he was just left feeling weak. Not as weak as that alleyway, but a close second, which wasn't ideal. 

 

-

Bro showed up first. Suspiciously fast, even, which made Dave think that he'd been hovering in the area, but he wasn't gonna point that out. Instead, he watched his older walk in and look oddly stiff, probably less than happy with him getting the shit beat out of him. 

Once the door was shut behind him, Bro spoke immediately. 

"What happened to your new outfit?" 

"It's stuffed in the wall in the alleyway off 12th Street," Dave admitted, only to be surprised as his brother leaned over to ruffle his hair. It was oddly familial, which was nothing they'd ever done before. His gaze followed as Bro walked over to grab the little cup on his bedside table that the nurse had left, heading to the bathroom to refill it and hand it to Dave. He couldn't lift his arm fast, or high, but it worked well enough to drink another cup. 

It was the best damn water he'd ever had. 

"Look at you, hidin' evidence. The old one wasn’t found at the scene, so thank your lucky stars. Got a cover story yet? Can't tell people you got this beat up from a mob boss that you killed afterwards."

Brows raising, tired eyes still couldn't open all the way as Dave managed to question, "You know about that?" 

"Yeah." Leaning his butt on the edge of Dave's bed, he clicked his tongue. "Also know that Spade took over and wants you speared, fried and fed to the dogs." 

"Peachy," Dave responded lazily, though his heartbeat did speed up on the monitor as the hand with the empty cup met his lap. 

"So? Cover story?"

"Uh-" Expression going sour, Dave tried to use his sluggish mind to work one out. "Got mugged. Two against one ain't a fair fight with a knife and a gun."

"Sounds good," Bro assured. "I've got an ear to the ground on the Spade thing for now. Right now, worry about gettin' better. As long as you're in here, you're safe." 

"And when I get out?"

"That's a problem for future Dave. How're you feelin'?" 

"Like shit," Dave admitted. The drugs were good for pain, but due to an allergy to morphine, they weren't the kind of good that made him nine types of loopy. Just more relaxed than usual. "Like I'm exhausted but can't sleep. Everything's heavy, my arms, my tongue. Hard to keep my eyes open."

"Yeah, well. You've got about twenty minutes before you've got your boyfriend all over you, so catch some shut eye while you can." Patting the bed twice, Bro pushed himself up, grabbing the cup and setting it back on the end table before moving to sit down in one of the rickety plastic chairs provided. 

The mental image was funny, but Dave still managed to grumble, "Haven't asked to be boyfriends yet."

"Yeah well tell him that. Jesus Christ, he's an attack Chihuahua, nearly bit my head off when he saw me there." 

_That_ mental image did get him smiling, just a little. "Yeah of course you'd find that funny you little shit," Bro grumbled, digging out his phone to mess around on. Though, Dave didn't miss the glances he'd shoot his way every once in a while, as if to check that he was still there. 

Right on the nose, it was twenty minutes before the door creaked open. 

The first in was Rose, void of makeup and hardly looking like herself without black lips. Though when they pulled up into a smile, Dave didn't notice the missing lipstick as much. "Is he awake?" A voice stage whispered from behind her, definitely Jade, before his other two friends piled in behind her. 

Rose walked over immediately and hugged him, bandaging and tubes be damned. He tried to hug back the best he could while having two standing IV's flowing to one arm, but she seemed understanding of this. She only let go when Jade begged to get some space, her hug gentle and betraying her usual roughhousing. 

It was kind, even if it left him feeling like they saw him as fragile. 

Looking up over Harley's shoulder, he saw John hovering by the door, looking distinctly lost. Wide eyed, hands fiddling in front of him, and Dave lifted a hand towards him. 

Jade let go after giving him a kiss on the cheek, welcoming him back to the waking world. 

"Hey," John greeted lamely, though he still took Dave's hand when he was in reach. There was evidence of small cuts and bruising on his knuckles, showing that he'd fought back. That detail got John's stomach rolling all over again, but Dave was looking up at him with a stupidly warm expression and John wanted to throttle him. 

John was the reason he was in here! It was dangerous, being roommates with him, being friends with him, and Dave just looked _happy_. 

He needed to come clean to him. 

"I'm sorry-" He started, before feeling a weak tug on his hand. Leaning down, he sank against Dave when he hugged him, feeling only some of the usual strength behind Dave's hug as he squeezed him back. 

"Please, Egbert, I know this wasn't you." Shushing him on it, Dave refused to let John go down that path. "Unless you were two punk kids with a gun, a knife and a lucky shot, you're not on my shitlist, so unclench." From behind where Rose and Jade were watching them, Bro just raised his hand in a thumbs up. It took all of Dave's resolve not to roll his eyes when he caught sight of it. 

Though at the cover story, it looked like all the strings had been cut in John's body, making him sink closer. Why would John apologize? He hadn't done anything wrong, this was all because of Noir and Knight-

Oh. 

Oh god, Knight had threatened John's friends and then his roommate got got like, a week later.

Had John spent five days thinking his vigilante work had gotten Dave almost killed by, well, himself? 

"Two kids?" John repeated, like he was double checking, and Dave nodded. 

"Two dumb kids, I was in the wrong place at the wrong time." 

"Oh." The word was quiet, so relieved sounding that Dave turned his head, kissing John's temple. It rendered the dude stock still, but Dave had almost died, so fuck it, he was allowed to be sentimental. 

"Relax dude, I'm fine." Resting their heads together, he glanced at Rose and Jade out of the corner of his eye, both of them sharing a glance and an amused expression. "What, just hugs from the ladies? No hellos?" 

"You scared the shit out of us," Jade said in way of greeting, getting Dave silently shaking with laughter. "Never do that again! Why the hell were you in an alleyways anyways?" 

"I thought it'd be a shortcut to the street over," Dave explained, wishing he could shrug but not about to check and see if he'd be able to feel it in his shoulder. "Wrong place, wrong time."

"Just two young punks, huh?" Rose asked again, gaze flicking to John, who was now sitting up but still holding Dave's hand like a lifeline. When he glanced over and caught the stare, he had to look away, but at least seemed less anxious. 

This time, Dave did shrug, and yup, he could definitely feel that. Face scrunching at the discomfort, he nodded, feeling John lace their fingers together. "Fuck man, it be like that sometimes. Guess I'm getting old."

"Dude you're 22," John responded, only to get Dave quietly shushing him. 

"Semantics."

"Please, for the love of god, next time just hand them your wallet," Rose insisted, walking back over to grab Dave's hand and squeeze it. "You did not leave us feeling reassured, staying in unstable condition for that long. They had a nurse with you at all hours, and _someone_ could not stop calling for updates." Another pointed look, and John rolled his eyes.

"Well _sooooorry_ if I was worried! The last time we saw him-" 

"Whoa whoa whoa why are we looking in the past? I don't wanna know what I looked like when I got here, considering how I already feel like shit. Can't imagine it was a pretty picture."

"You could say that," Jade said a little too ominously for Dave's taste. 

"Take a seat Harley, lighten up. I'm f-" He tried to move his leg to make room next to where Jade was standing, but almost choked on his tongue at how much it hurt. So much for the pain meds keeping him happy; The deep tissue injury could still definitely be felt. 

Noticing this, Jade's hand flew out to his calf, keeping it in the same place, "Oh my god, stop!" If her tone was the slightest bit amused, well, she wasn't proud of that. "There are chairs right there, we don't all need to sit on the bed with you, don't hurt yourself being polite."

Dave ended up just nodding a little woodenly, hand trying and failing to locate the little button on his IV to give him a secondary dose of pain medication. When John saw him moving, he pressed it himself. Probably planning on giving Dave some space, John moved to stand up, only to get his hand gripped minutely tighter by his friend. So instead, he stayed, settling back down on the edge of the hospital bed and feeling Dave drop his head to his shoulder tiredly. 

"Beds are made to be sat on. Find space and bunker down, Jade."

"Actually, they're made to sleep in, which you look like you need," Rose pointed out, finally letting his hand go so she could lean over and kiss his forehead once. "You should sleep, you're body went through a lot of stress." 

"I just spent five days sleeping," He tried to argue, though it was hard to ignore how heavy his eyelids were thanks to the medication. 

"Yeah man, take a nap! We'll chill here as long as we're allowed to." By this point Jade was leaning on the edge of the foot of the bed, hand still resting on his calf. 

"It's only 9 AM, we've got time," Bro promised, lazily scrolling through his phone. 

When his eyes fell shut, John's voice got him smiling just a touch as he began to drift off. "Anyone see the TV remote?" 

-

 

When he woke back up at noon, he still felt exhausted. 

Face scrunching up, Dave kind of let his mind get to realizing that he was gonna feel like this a lot when he went to scrub at his eyes, only to feel like his hand was literally too heavy to lift. 

Cracking an eye down and looking over, he found John still holding his hand, watching something on the Food Network Channel and looking surprisingly relaxed compared to when he'd walked in. 

"Hey," Dave greeted quietly, only for John to jump a little and turn to look at him. 

"Up so soon?" John asked, reaching to mute the TV with the remote that had settled next to Dave's leg. The blond tipped his head to look for the rest of their motley crew, but was surprised to see the room empty. It was just the two of them. Noticing the look, John was quick to assure, "They just left like, two minutes ago to get food." 

"Not hungry?"

"Eh, I'd rather stay." Shrugging, John offered a crooked smile. "Five days of silence in that apartment was hell."

"Pft," Dave scoffed, smiling, "I had to work to convince you to stay. Now you're bored without me."

"Oh come on, I've never been bored of you! You showing me Houston was just a great reason to hang out. I never planned on leaving."

"Yeah, you say that now, but-"

"Really," John said, trying to sound sincere. "Really, I've been happy since the second I got here. There was just a lot going on in my head, but you uh- Well you helped that. You've made me a lot happier than I have been in a long time."

"You sayin' all this sweet stuff because of what happened?" Dave dared to ask, knowing he hit the nail on the head when John's gaze broke. 

"I just feel….. Bad. I never told you a lot of stuff, y'know? And I almost lost my chance." Looking back when Dave squeezed his hand, the blond gave a little frown in thought. 

"…. Can't you say it now?" 

At the thought, John was smiling just a bit again. "Yeah. Yeah I can can't I?"

"And now would be your chance, because I get the feeling it'll be hard to get another moment without everyone else."

"Right," John started, clearing his throat and looking like he was searching for words. "First off, I love you and all, but it drives me up the wall that you go through so much laundry. Like holy shit, you can re-wear a shirt!" This got Dave giving a little laugh, which promptly got his face pinching before he reached and pressed the button on his IV again. "Though I like that you never drink out of water glasses. Only coffee mugs." 

"Didn't think you'd ever notice that, I'm gonna be real."

"Yeah well when I went to get a glass of water two days after moving in and was assaulted by the sight of mugs, I got the idea. It's a lot easier, though, I'll be real. No matter what, we're always ready for hot drinks. Anyways, what else?" Giving a hum, he shifted in his seat. " You made leaving home a million times easier. Really. Like I was scared shitless to leave my Dad and Jade, and yet once I saw you at the airport, it wasn't as bad. I wasn't feeling scared as much as excited when I saw the apartment. You made the big bad city seem so….. Easy. Though I can't ever imagine us living in New York because we would both die in like, five days." 

Dave nodded at that. "Very true. What else?" 

"Hmmmm. Never thought I'd watch as much Bob Ross as I do whenever either one of us have had any type of alcohol. So I now know how to paint a mountain, thanks to you."

"Hey man, that's all Bob." 

"And I like that you smile so often. I never thought I'd see it more than once, but you do it more and more every day, and I'm glad that you feel comfortable enough to do that. I know it wasn't that way for a long time for you."

"…… What else?" 

"…… Neither of the girls told you, but I was late. Getting here. I was busy and ignored my phone, and I was late. And I-" Inhaling deeply, he squeezed Dave's hand. "I would have never forgiven myself, for being late if you'd died. You almost did."

"But I didn't," Dave promised quietly, wiggling their hands. "Right here. Ready to wash a mountain of laundry and paint happy little trees." 

The laugh John gave was sudden, though it sounded tighter than usual. "Right," he said, though he still leaned forward, lifting Dave's hand to rest his forehead against his knuckles. "But you almost weren't. Thinking about it just-" 

"When you nearly bit it in that stupid fire, I went through this same thing." Dave interrupted. First off, he didn't want John focusing on what could have been and getting himself all kinds of upset. Secondly, because he didn't think he'd ever have the resolve to say this when he couldn't blame it on pain medication. 

For being willing to jump between rooftops and out of burning buildings, he was a fuckin' scaredy cat when it came to things that could drastically affect his only few important relationships.

"Harley put up with me, pacing all over at ass o'clock in the morning and double checking to make sure that you were okay. I get that panicky feeling, of shit left unsaid."

"Really?" 

"Yeah. Yeah we talked a lot, and I realized that I probably watched way too much Degrassi as a kid and-" _Just do it. The worst he can do is leave, and with the shitstorm coming, that would probably be good for him. This is your only chance Strider._ "I'd wanted to ask you out."

"Out?" John parroted. 

"On a date," Dave said, inhaling deep and feeling his side twinge uncomfortably. "And then I was like, holy fuck, I have awful timing, but I didn't know that we'd both be dying so often, so I thought I'd wait til your side was better and bring you to this one really cool sushi place next to this old thrift shop that had a standing piano for like, three hundred bucks, because I know you probably miss playing and-"

And John was laughing. 

Falling quiet with his mouth still slightly open, Dave's teeth clicked when he shut it suddenly, feeling his face warm up uncomfortably. Did he play this off as a joke? Because John was still laughing and he found himself wishing he'd kept his mouth shut. 

But when he looked at John, he saw that his eyes were looking a little red, and his mouth wasn't a stark, solid smile as much as it was a wobbly one. John turned his face more against Dave's hand, and Dave let go of his friends fingers to cup his cheek, which got John's laughter sounding a lot more like quiet crying. "Egbert?"

"Fuck, I'm so stupid." Looking up at Dave, John's mouth wobbled a little more, but he seemed like he really was trying to smile. "I'd love that. I'd really really love that." 

Starting at that, Dave seemed surprised. "Wait what."

"When you get out of here, I wanna go on that date." 

"Like, as a date? Or as a hangout?" 

"Like as a date," John confirmed, his laugh sounding more genuine, if not a little watery. "You beat me to it."

"Beat you to what?" 

"That was on my list. Of things to tell you. That I wanted another date, like our Houston one. Though this time preferably with it being more of a date date. It was before 'We need to go back to that place now because their fries are killer and I owe you dinner' and after 'I miss you watching Hoarders with me at four AM'." Looking back up at him, John turned and spoke against Dave's palm, looking slightly distressed while his eyes closed. "I was really freaked that I'd never be able to ask."

It took Dave a few moments to really process the statements, but he could feel something light up in his stomach and fill up his chest as he repeated the words in his head ten times over. "So it's a date?" He asked, only to feel John laugh into the skin of his hand. 

"It's a date. Though don't think I'm gonna be here almost every day bugging you anyways." 

Half of his mouth lifted in a smile as he dropped his hand to John shirt, tugging him to get him close. This time it was John who kissed his temple and wormed his way into a close hug. "I wouldn't have it any other way," Dave promised quietly. 

This felt like the calm before the storm, from what Bro had told him. 

He had until he got out of the hospital, to be safe and happy. 

Though when he blew air on John's ear and felt him swat his uninjured side with a laugh, he decided he was selfish enough to take what he could get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Just a tiny bit of happiness before the storm


End file.
